


Perfect Shapes

by Ashii Black (ashiiblack), littleblackbow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Casual Sex, Drug Use, Fist Fights, HP: EWE, M/M, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Resolved Sexual Tension, Time Travel, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 49,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3188624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashiiblack/pseuds/Ashii%20Black, https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackbow/pseuds/littleblackbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry is accidentally sent back to Hogwarts 1982, he discovers a more bitter and angrier Snape than he knew in his school years. Tasked by Dumbledore with teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and befriending Snape, as well as finding out how to get back, Harry knows he is in store for a difficult year. Despite their arguing, Harry can't help but find himself drawn to Snape. If Harry and Snape can get over their past and learn to be just a little selfish, their relationship may stand a chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Written in Reverse

**Author's Note:**

> Mod Note: **We'd like to remind all visitors that the art and fiction created for the Harry Big Bang is not to be copied, repurposed, or redistributed without express permission from the artist who created it and that we have exclusivity until 7 March 2015. You are welcome to recommend fics and art by linking back to the post on Ao3, but not to copy and repost elsewhere.**
> 
> This fic first started out as an outline in spring of 2012, but was abandoned. When Harry Bang was announced, I instantly pounced on it as a way to motivate me to write this story that was begging to be told. During this period, I had two family members pass away, which added to some of the angst in this fic. I'd like to thank the mods for being patient when I'd drop out of the Internet for a month, as well as the three betas it took to get this fic to look well-groomed. You rock! The title is taken from Katy Perry's "Not Like the Movies," specifically the line, _They say it's hard to meet your match, gotta find my better half so we make perfect shapes._ Chapter titles are also shamelessly borrowed from songs that I listened to on repeat, so thanks Tove Lo, Avicii, Tiesto, and Adele.

"I'm still not sure about this, Hermione," Harry said as he stepped into the room. "This doesn't sound safe."

Hermione clicked her tongue impatiently. "It is perfectly safe, Harry. I've done all of the calculations over and over again."

Harry frowned. Ever since Hermione joined the Unspeakables, she had become a force to be reckoned with. She was not only as knowledgeable as ever, but she had piles of resources at her fingertips.

Most recently, she had been doing some research on something called "atoms," which were tiny particles no one could see. Harry vaguely remembered learning about them in primary school, but not much else. The idea was to get them moving at a high enough frequency to generate a large amount of heat. Apparently, Muggle scientists had already done this, but Hermione believed that using magic on the particles would be even more effective, so much so that fireplaces would be used only for transportation if this experiment and subsequent trial was a success.

Harry, meanwhile, was between jobs. He had tried his luck out as an Auror, but quit after discovering rather quickly that he didn't enjoy being given orders and his superiors ignoring evidence because it was simply "circumstantial." After that, he had tried his hand at joining Luna as a wizard naturalist. She had showed him all sorts of plants and animals, more than half of which were real. Unfortunately, he had grown bored walking around in fields and forests and looking at nature, so he quit that job after just two months.

Then, he had joined George at the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. This, he found immensely enjoyable. He could play with the products and chat up the customers. Then came the unfortunate time to budget and fill out piles of tax paperwork. He apologized to George and promised him that he would stay on until they found someone else to help. George relieved him of his duties early after he caught Harry snogging their delivery boy in the back room.

Harry had enough money left over in his vault to get by, but he truly wanted to find a job that fit him. So he could make money and get exposed to other people and places, Hermione offered to hire him to perform experiments. Sometimes, they took him all over the world. He wasn't a huge fan of being someone's guinea pig, but it was better than sitting in front of his television at Grimmauld Place and watching _Charmed_ for the thousandth time.

Harry watched Hermione pull her book and review another list of calculations on her parchment. Hermione had been an Unspeakable for two years. She had initially joined the Ministry to work on stricter laws regarding Magic Non-Human rights, but found she was unable to effect change in the front lines.

Instead, she discovered that Unspeakables were rarely liable for their actions, and never in the public eye. It made it far easier for her to campaign for house-elf rights, as well as to introduce Muggle concepts with a Wizarding twist. She had already helped transition computers from simply running on electricity to being run by magic.

Now, Harry stood in an empty, silent room. It was completely white, with a strange machine that sat next to him. It was boxy and had what looked like a ray gun sticking out of its side, facing Harry. It didn't appear as though there were any atoms in the room, but Hermione assured him that there were, in fact, trillions in the air alone.

"Okay, Harry! Let me know when you start to feel any heat! If it gets too hot at any point, wave your wand in a clockwise motion. The atoms will immediately stop moving and you will be safe."

"Fine. Let's get this one over with."

Harry decided that he would much rather be having a drink, chatting up a handsome bloke at the local Muggle gay bar. He enjoyed having fast, no-strings-attached encounters. Sometimes, they only made it as far as the bathroom or the back way alley, and he was fine with that.

After having so much expected of him at such a young age, he didn't mind that he had so much trouble holding down a job, or that a relationship wasn't in the cards for him. He liked being spontaneous, with nothing to tie him down. It was easier that way.

"Harry, do you feel anything yet?"

Harry looked around the room. He didn't see anything. He felt nothing. "Nope!"

"I'm going to aggravate the atoms!"

"What in the bleeding hell does that mean?"

"I am turning on the machine!"

The strange contraption sitting next to him suddenly sent out a whoosh of air straight at his face.

"I felt some air!"

"That's to be expected."

Suddenly, out of what seemed like nowhere, a golden beam of light surrounded him. He felt a wave of heat wash over him. "Hermione, you did it!"

The light swirled around him lazily. Harry was so shocked that it worked the first try, he laughed.

He glanced around the room. It was completely filled with the gleaming light. Without any warning, the lights concentrated around him, swirling slowly at first, but quickly picking up pace. Within seconds, the light was no longer a room-brightening glow, but rather multiple sparks, circling Harry at breakneck speeds.

"Hermione, what is going on?"

The light was so bright, he shut his eyes. He remembered that if there was any problem, he needed to twirl his wand. He tried to reach for it, but the force of the light made it impossible to move.

He felt as though he was lifted into the air. He rose so high, he was convinced he would smack into the ceiling. Yet, it didn't come. Screaming and frantically trying to move, Harry felt himself lurch forward, falling through the blinding light.

**

Harry hit the ground with a thud.

He winced, grabbing his head with his hands on both sides.

It was dark, far darker than the room he and Hermione had just been in. As he looked around, he could hear the dripping of water onto the floor.

He tried to stand, but found his legs had no interest in moving. Were they broken? He had fallen hard to the floor. Instead, he picked up his wand from the floor and cast a quick Lumos.

If he didn't know any better, he’d think was in the Hogwarts dungeons. It was damp, and he immediately recognized the stones that were stacked up the wall. There were no windows, and rows of cauldrons lining the room. Harry noticed jars set along shelves, labeled in spiky handwriting he hadn't seen in years.

He drew a deep, shuddering breath. The spell was supposed to generate light. Instead, it appeared to have sent him to the darkest place he could imagine.

"Who is there?"

Harry turned, his legs still unwilling to cooperate. "Where am I?"

The voice Harry heard sent chills down his spine. It was a voice he heard say its last words, a voice that mocked him at any chance it got. "You are in my private lab, is where you are."

Snape.

"Am I dead?" He instantly regretted his words.

Torches flickered on around the walls. "You appear to be very much alive."

Harry covered his face. The lights hurt his eyes. "I don't understand. How are you here?"

He heard Snape's steps striding toward him, robes billowing behind him. "I have half a mind to curse you into oblivion."

Harry uncovered his face and turned to Snape. They gasped in tandem.

"Potter!" Snape's voice growled, and he tackled him, pinning him to the ground. "You are supposed to be dead!"

Harry was speechless. This wasn't the Snape he knew. No, this Snape was his age! This Snape had no age lines. Yes, he still had a dead, haunted look about him, but he looked about twenty years younger than Harry remembered. "I'm supposed to be dead?" he managed to choke out.

"You—and Lily—both of you."

"I'm not James."

Snape grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up. His apparent broken leg nearly collapsed from the pain, but Snape paid no attention to it. He quickly bound Harry's hands, snatched his wand, and shoved him forward. "I'm taking you straight to the headmaster. You did a piss poor job impersonating him, whoever you are. It's Lily's whose eyes are green, not his."

Harry glanced around the room frantically. "What year is this?"

"Fuck off."

He dragged Harry up all eleven staircases to the headmaster's office. "Lemon drop." Snape's voice spat the words and he pushed through up the staircase.

"Severus, what seems to be the—who might this be?"

"I could ask you the same question. Doesn't this look astonishingly like Potter?" Snape's voice was mocking.

Harry stole a glance at Albus Dumbledore. It felt so good to see him alive. He wanted to rush forward and hug the old man, but he doubted his legs would carry him that far. Snape had essentially dragged him the entire way.

Dumbledore eyed him up and down. "He does appear to look an awful lot like James, Severus. But look, the scar."

Snape stepped forward and grasped Harry's chin, tilting his face up toward him. Harry squirmed. "It's a lightning bolt."

"Harry Potter." Dumbledore's voice was barely above a whisper.

"But how? You sent him to live with _her_." Snape's voice was filled with venom. "Not to mention, this is a fully grown man and Harry Potter is two years old."

Harry's legs finally gave out. "This is 1982?"

"Evidently, he is aware of the fact that he shouldn't be here, as well."

Dumbledore looked as though he wanted to laugh, but seemed too concerned for the sound to come out. "Who are you?"

Harry winced and propped himself up with his hands. "Professor, would you mind mending my legs? I can barely think through this pain."

"Of course, of course." Dumbledore stepped around his desk and over to where Harry was sitting. With a wave of his wand, Harry's legs instantly felt like normal.

Harry wasn't sure what to say. What would happen if he shared his future with them? Hermione's warning that wizards had caused horrible time loops by ruining their timeline rang in Harry's ears. Yet, he was already born, being mistreated by the Dursleys. Wasn't that fact enough to indicate that perhaps he wasn't changing that timeline?

He decided to go with the easiest answer and trust that Dumbledore, as wise as he was, would be able to stop him before he gave away too much information. "My name is Harry Potter. I am 23 years old. I was participating in an experiment to generate heat using Muggle and Wizarding technology, and somehow, I was sent here."

Dumbledore and Snape clearly hadn't expected that answer.

After the initial shock, Snape's face contorted itself into a sneer. "How do we know you're not a Dark wizard?"

Harry would much rather not be tortured by Snape. He couldn't imagine it would be any better than the verbal torment he had received for six years. "How can I prove to you that I'm not evil?"

"Tell us, Harry, did you know us in the future?" Dumbledore seemed to attempt to mask his curiosity.

He nodded. "Yes. You were my headmaster, and you were my Potions professor."

Snape scoffed. "That doesn't help anything. That's what we are right now."

Dumbledore nudged Snape. "You are not the Potions professor, Severus. You are studying under Horace, and will take over when he believes you are ready."

Snape glowered at Dumbledore, and sent Harry another nasty look.

"You told me quite often that my inflated head was exactly like my father's," Harry snapped at Snape. He turned to Dumbledore. "You told me once in front of the Mirror of Erised that you saw yourself receiving a pair of socks, because all you ever get for Christmas are books."

Dumbledore took on a ponderous look. "What else do you know?"

"I know that you were once friends with Gellert Grindelwald."

Dumbledore nodded and absentmindedly stroked his beard.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Albus, you can't be serious. He could be an old man who grew up in Godric's Hollow masquerading as some Potter child. Rather poorly, I might add." He looked Harry up and down. "However, I'm not sure why they thought a Potter would be so scrawny."

Harry stomped his foot. "I'm not impersonating anyone! I'm this small because I had to live with the Dursleys for the first ten years of my life! I was underfed and abused! There weren't enough dinners at the Weasley house to counterbalance that!"

He clapped his hand over his mouth. Snape always goaded him into saying things he knew he shouldn't. Apparently, this Snape was no different.

"If you're telling the truth, Harry—"

"That's a fairly strong 'if,' isn't it?"

"Severus." Albus turned to Harry. "If you're telling the truth, you need to remain here until we can figure out how to send you back."

"You believe him?"

Harry gulped. He had one last weapon up his sleeve that would ensure that both of them would believe him. Snape would hate him even more he already did. "I know why you renounced being a Death Eater, Snape."

Snape froze. Dumbledore looked on, interested.

"You overheard a prophecy saying that I would be Voldemort's downfall. You wanted to protect my mum. You loved her." Harry cupped his hands over his face, wincing.

His hands weren't enough. A rush of magic rippled across the room, breaking everything made of glass. Snape pushed past Harry's hands and gripped his throat. "I —you—"

His entire body shook on Harry's. From his Auror training, Harry could practically taste the fear emitting from Snape. Why was Snape so afraid of him?

"Thank you, Harry. I believe that is all the proof we need. Am I right, Severus? The only people who could possibly know are people we told—or will tell in the future. Severus, please release him."

Harry opened his eyes. Snape quickly looked away, releasing his grip.

"Headmaster, if you don't mind, I would like to go back to brewing my potions. It's what I was doing before I was so rudely interrupted by this insipid fool."

Dumbledore nodded. "That is fine. Thank you for bringing him to me, Severus. You could have killed him where you stood. That is progress, after all."

Snape barked a laugh, and slammed the door shut behind him, rattling all of the broken glass on the floor.

Dumbledore waved his wand and put everything right. "Harry, do sit."

Harry sat down, his heart still pumping in his ears. "I didn't mean to upset him. I just—I didn't think there was any other way you would believe me."

"I understand perfectly. Remind me to never question your opinion, Harry. I would hate to hear what other dark secrets you know about me." At Harry's silence, Dumbledore continued, "You need to remain here, Harry. It isn't safe for you outside of our protection. Someone could easily break a Glamor. Plus, we have an entire library here that is sure to shed some light on our situation."

Harry nodded and decided to lighten the mood. "I know a way to ensure I can go home."

Dumbledore's eyes brightened. "Do tell."

"Since the Defense Against the Dark Arts job is cursed, I could take it. No one can last longer than a year in that position."

Instead of laughing, Dumbledore clapped his hands. "Do you have any experience in the subject?"

Harry, put off, answered without thinking. "I taught a small group while I was at Hogwarts, and then I worked as an Auror for a year."

"The Boy Who Lived? A Dark Wizard catcher? How very fitting." Dumbledore nodded in approval.

"I quit. It wasn't working out." Harry spoke hastily. "I was just joking, though. Really."

"No, you weren't. Our current professor is in over her head. She has been begging me to release her from her contract since the term began."

"Didn't I hear you say that Snape was too young to be a professor?"

Dumbledore nodded. "While I would never betray my confidences to Severus, I don't quite think he's ready to manage a group of students. I'm having him apprentice under our current Potions professor until he is ready."

"Snape and I are the same age. What makes you think I'm ready?"

Dumbledore seemed to ignore the question and take out a Warhead sweet. "Harry, have you ever had one of these?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't really eat sweets."

He popped it in his mouth and puckered his face. "They taste terrible when you first put them in your mouth. However, just a few seconds later, they are unimaginably sweet and full of flavor."

"Sir, what does this have to do with me being a professor?" Harry felt a brief wave of sympathy for Snape, having to deal with backwards conversations like this all the time.

"Severus is still sour. He's hurting, Harry. Severus is an angry man who would lash out at anything that crosses him. I believe that with all of your knowledge, perhaps you can help him get past all of his grief. I know he can be a good person and a wonderful professor. He hasn't had an easy life. It doesn't sound as though you have, either."

"You want me to be a member of the teaching staff so I can help Snape get over being a Death Eater?" The words sounded even more ridiculous out loud than in Harry's head. "I don't think I'm the right person for that job. He _hated_ me when he was my professor, and we didn't begin on a good note this time, either."

"Never mind that. You’ll learn to read through all of Severus’s attitude. Perhaps you would be interested in taking on an apprenticeship as well? I may be able to convince Lydia to stay if she trained you to take her place." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Whether or not this position is cursed, we still need someone to take on the post."

Harry took in a deep breath. "I look too much like my parents to not be recognized. What should I do about that?"

Dumbledore smiled and waved his wand over Harry. "That shouldn't be too hard to change."

**

"Merlin, is that James?" Minerva McGonagall jumped up from her desk and rushed to Dumbledore and Harry.

"The resemblance is uncanny, yes? Minerva, do you remember what we did on November first of last year?"

McGonagall's eyes darkened. "We sent Harry to live with his aunt and uncle."

Dumbledore nodded. "Twenty years later, he has returned to the past."

"You mean to tell me that this—this is—"

"This is Harry Potter."

Harry didn't know what else to do, so he smiled. McGonagall didn't look much different from how he remembered her. Sure, some of her wrinkles weren't as deep, and he knew she didn't have the scar on her arm from Dolohov's curse, but she looked to be the same Minerva McGonagall he fiercely respected.

"How did he get here?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I'm not sure. I was participating in an experiment to generate heat, and instead, a wave of light overtook me and sent me here."

"In other words, you didn't do this on purpose."

Harry nodded at McGonagall. "I did not."

McGonagall turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, have you ever heard of anything like this happening?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "It seems as though there is still much even I can learn."

"How do we get him back to his time?"

"That would be the real question. We will research in the library and some other collections I know of. In the meantime, I've asked for Harry to help take over some of Lydia's classes and train under her."

McGonagall chuckled. "Harry Potter, teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Once you think about it, he does seem like the man for the job, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry couldn't help but think to himself that they would be even further amused if they knew that he defeated Voldemort a second time.

"Does he have qualifications?"

"I was an Auror for a year after I took my NEWTs." Harry piped up.

"He also says he ran a Defense Club his fifth year."

It had been a while since Harry had been spoken of for anything other than his exploits with Muggle men and his lack of interest in a career of any sort. He remembered that there was once a time when his peers truly respected him. A typical conversation with an old classmate usually started with, 'Still not ready to settle down?' or 'What has Hermione got you doing now?'

"I think it would be good for Severus to have someone his own age on the staff, as well."

McGonagall nodded. "Do you really think he would help the situation? He looks so much like James."

Dumbledore waved his wand over Harry's face. Instantly, he felt his nose elongate and face change shape. "We'll keep his eye color, but he looks much more like a distant Black relative now. I'm sure that Harry Hitchens would be a fine name for him."

He didn't appreciate Dumbledore changing his face without his permission, let alone giving him a new name. "Shouldn't I be able to pick my own name and face?"

Dumbledore studied Harry's face. "Harry, you should keep your first name. That way, you will always answer to it. As for your last name and the face, the Black family is enormous. It would be easy for a Hitchens to be unaccounted for, especially since it's a Muggle name. I doubt anyone would be interested in researching your lineage once they hear it."

"I'm confused. Am I Harry Hitchens, or Harry Black?"

"Do you know who Andromeda Tonks is?" After Harry nodded, Dumbledore continued, "She married a Muggle, Ted Tonks. However, any children they have are still technically members of the Black family, despite being disowned by the rather formidable Walburga."

Harry nodded. "So Hitchens is a name of a Muggle family one of the Blacks married into?"

"You are correct."

Harry took out his wand and cast a Mirror Charm. He gasped. Instead of having his father's face, he looked as though he were the offspring of his mother and Sirius. He felt a pang in his heart. No matter how much time had passed, the thought of Sirius still brought him grief.

"Would you mind if I not look quite as much like Sirius, Professor?"

"Of course. I imagine you wouldn't want to look like the person responsible for your parents’ deaths." McGonagall looked to Dumbledore.

A feeling of joy washed over him. Sirius was alive! He was in Azkaban, but still alive!

Should he say something? Should he contact the Weasleys and have Pettigrew thrown into a fire? Harry chose to bite his tongue and not say anything. He was probably already completely changing the future just by talking to McGonagall and Dumbledore.

Dumbledore changed his face slightly, so he had slightly rounder features, but kept his normal eye shape. He even grew Harry's hair out past his shoulders, letting its madness run free. He had never had hair this long before.

"This length hair seems to be the style with both Muggles and wizards at the moment." Dumbledore smiled at Harry.

Harry chuckled. "I'm shocked you managed to do anything to my hair at all. It can be unruly at times."

McGonagall clicked her tongue impatiently. "Who else knows about this?"

Dumbledore motioned around him. "Just us and Severus. It should remain that way unless we need to disclose this information to someone else."

"I can't imagine anyone else needing to know that this is Harry Potter."

Harry nodded. "We just thought you should know, Professor."

McGonagall turned to Harry and smiled. Her smile was so familiar; hell, he had just seen it in the past week. Yet, he had never seen such a young, vibrant smile. Perhaps she was in a relationship? Harry knew that he had a stupid grin on his face after a successful night.

"We have quarters up here in Gryffindor tower if you'd like to stay here."

Harry nodded at Dumbledore. "I would greatly appreciate it."

"We can't have you staying at the Three Broomsticks all year, can we?"

As Harry thought that it wouldn't be the _worst_ fate to live above a bar, he bade farewell to McGonagall, and followed Dumbledore to his new living arrangement.

**

"This is where you will be staying, Harry. I hope it is to your liking." Dumbledore smiled at Harry. "These were the first chambers I ever stayed in when I started working at Hogwarts. There is a special kind of magic in these walls. I'll leave you to get acquainted with them."

Harry bade Dumbledore farewell and looked around. He never thought much about his living quarters before. In his time, he lived in a small flat near downtown London. He kept it clean enough, but never spent much time making it look like a home. He had no need for it. The only time he spent in his flat was when he binge-watched Muggle television and slept.

This new space, however, was a reminder of how much Harry loved—and missed—Hogwarts. When they walked in, he saw a sitting area, complete with a couch and a roaring fireplace. Down the hallway was a bedroom with an enormous four-poster bed. There was a bathroom en suite in the bedroom, with a tub, a shower, a toilet, and a sink. Since they were in the Gryffindor tower, the décor was very much crimson, gold, and lion-themed. He appreciated it, and it made him all the more grateful to Dumbledore that he was able to stay at Hogwarts until he managed to get back to his timeline.

From what he surmised, the spinning light must have been what transported him to 1982. He was scared about what this might mean for getting back to his time. Surely, Muggles hadn't created the technology to do whatever those atoms were doing in Hermione's experiment.

He remembered that, in their third year, Hermione used a Time-Turner to go back to the past and attend multiple classes at the same time. Could he possibly use a Time-Turner to go to the future?

Dumbledore seemed hell bent on getting Harry to befriend Snape. Was he ready for that?  
It had been three years since he stopped hating Snape. Snape was a product of his environment, and then had tried his best to save Harry's family.

The sorrow he saw in Snape's memories were even fresher in this Snape than in Harry's own mind. He couldn't imagine loving someone as much as Snape had loved his mother. Sure, he ruined their friendship, but Snape still loved her.

Dumbledore didn't seem to realize how hard it would be for Snape to overcome all of those feelings. It wasn't as though making a friend his age would cause him to get over all of the guilt he felt. Surely, Snape hadn't truly enjoyed all of the cruelty he had been a part of in his Death Eater days. He was scarred for life. He saw it in the Professor Snape he knew in his time and, in the short time he had known this Snape, it seemed even more apparent. He needed a Mind Healer, not a friend.

Especially not Harry, the product of the woman he loved and the man who tormented him for seven years.

As he felt his eyes grow heavy, he decided all of these thoughts about time travel and whether or not Snape would be his friend was far more thinking than he wanted to do at the moment.

He removed his robes, shirt, and trousers and lay down on his new bed. He sank into it, and he enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness as he curled up. Harry was asleep before he could even turn out the lights.

**

Harry woke up the next morning to the sun shining in his bedroom. The house-elves must have opened the curtains and shut off the lights he left on. He remembered that he had a staff meeting to get to. With a quick check of the time with his wand, he shot out of bed, and hoped the elves had been astute enough to fill his closet.

They were unbelievably astute! Harry stared at all of the clothes hung up in the wardrobe. There were robes for every occasion, as well as casual robes for day wear. He quickly threw on a pair of denims and a loose t-shirt, then a set of the black Hogwarts staff robes. He adjusted the fit a bit to make it tighter on his upper body, then stepped into the bathroom to splash his face.

It was still strange looking into the mirror and seeing a face other than his. Dumbledore hadn't changed his look too terribly much, but it was noticeable. All of his mother's features had been left on his face. While he took after his dad quite a bit, his eye color and shape, as well as his forehead, had stayed the same. The scar had been hidden by his hair falling into his face. Years ago, he would have given anything to hide the scar and stay out of the spotlight. He had gotten over that wish shortly after finishing at Hogwarts, finally coming to terms with his famous status.

He had spent a lot of time in therapy after the war. A Mind Healer saw him three times a week. They discussed everything. She helped him come to terms with the fact that he was gay, and guided him through his breakup with Ginny. He told her things that he had only ever shared with Ron and Hermione, and sometimes not even with them. They even discussed Snape at great length.

It was strange knowing that Dumbledore wanted him to help Snape. From spending barely even an hour with the other man, he seemed even more unhinged than he had been during Harry's younger years. It was no wonder that Dumbledore didn't think he was ready to take on students by himself yet. Harry chuckled to himself, seeing Snape hanging a group of students by their ankles.

He desperately tried to comb his hair. If Dumbledore had changed his face, why couldn't he have changed the unruliness of his hair? He pulled his hair back again, still adjusting to its new length.

Harry took one last glance at himself in the mirror and walked out, ready to head to the staff meeting.

As he walked down the steps to the staff room, he passed several groups of students. Some of the younger students stared open-mouthed at him, while an older group of girls looked him up and down, giggling. He simply smiled and stepped into the staff room.

"Ah, Harry Hitchens! Dumbledore told us all about you! The name is Flitwick: Filius Flitwick!"

Harry shook the short man's hand. "You teach Charms, yes?"

Flitwick smiled broadly. Harry couldn't help but remember how he fell off his stool when he called Harry's name during roll the first day of Charms. "That I do! We hear you'll be apprenticing under Lydia?"

Harry nodded. "I still haven't met her. I hope she's alright with that."

Flitwick waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "Nonsense." He leaned in closer. "Between you and me, I think that job post is cursed. Be sure to count all your limbs after every class."

Harry forced a laugh. "Right, so I've heard."

Harry was then introduced to professors Sinistra and Vector. He had never actually met Professor Vector before, so it was finally nice to meet the woman who sent Hermione into a tizzy every other week trying to prove theorems and solve equations.

McGonagall quickly joined them and they all began giving Harry advice on how to teach.

"Never smile."

"Repeat your directions three or four times."

"Never let students pass notes."

"Book reading is nice, but the students really want applications."

"Only assign the amount of homework you're willing to mark."

"If you laugh at a student's joke, be ready for the consequences."

"Assign detention to the first student who calls out."

The door opened and closed, and Harry could see Snape sneak into a seat near the back.

"Severus, do you have any suggestions for Harry's first day working with students?"

Snape sneered at McGonagall. "You're not my professor anymore, so I don't need to answer you."

He bent forward and took out a potions book from his bag. He remained bent forward and stared into the enormous tome sitting on his lap.

Sinistra made a face. "Don't bother with him, Harry. He doesn't want to teach, the way we do. He's here because he would get killed by You-Know-Who's followers if he left Hogwarts."

McGonagall shushed her. She turned to Harry and said in a low voice, "Severus is just a little testy. Believe it or not, you _can_ hold a decent conversation with him."

Harry shrugged. "He's the only other professor close to my age, so I thought we might get along."

Vector chuckled. "You don't get along with Severus Snape. Ever."

Just then, Dumbledore stepped inside. The teachers all took seats. Harry took a risk and sat down next to Snape. He glanced at Dumbledore and saw that Slughorn had pulled him into a conversation.

"Hi."

Snape kept reading.

"I thought you might be able to show me around the grounds sometime."

Though he continued reading, Snape spoke. "You said you were a student here, right? What could have changed in ten years?"

Harry clicked his tongue impatiently. Dumbledore had asked him to die to save the world, yet it was the order to get on with Snape which would cause Harry to admit to himself that Dumbledore finally asked too much of him. "I don't know. That's why I wanted to see. What if the stairwells are different? What if you use different classrooms?"

"Shouldn't you be asking that horrible shrew of a woman these questions? She's acting as your mentor, isn't she?"

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I just thought while I'm here, I could use someone to talk to."

Snape slammed the book shut, stood up, and moved to the other corner of the room.

Harry sighed in exasperation. This was going to be even harder than he thought, especially since all he wanted to do was clobber Snape in the face. Apparently, even forgiving him for how he was treated at Hogwarts wasn't enough to make him want to be friends with him. This Snape was even more awful than the Snape he knew from school.

As he watched Dumbledore call the staff to order, Harry couldn't help but think about how lonely Snape must be. He’d abandoned Voldemort's followers, and the only person he had ever counted a friend was dead. Harry wasn't sure about Snape's parents, but he knew that they weren't incredibly supportive, especially his father.

He hated feeling sorry for Snape. Snape would hate the fact that he felt sorry for him, too. Why couldn't he have been sent back to his parents’ school days? He could have joined the Marauders.

That thought brought up another thought. Could he change the past? Could he hunt down the Horcruxes and ensure that Voldemort could never become more than a shadow of a man?

Then again, one of the Horcruxes was in baby Harry. There was no way he would kill Harry. That would never work.

His attention was snapped back to Dumbledore when he heard his name.

"—Harry Hitchens, schooled in India, has come back to England and expressed interest in teaching at Hogwarts. Professor Lydia Charbonneau will continue teaching third years and up, but Harry will try his hand at working with our youngest groups. I think it will be a very successful partnership."

Harry glanced at the woman Dumbledore was gesturing at. The only word he could find to describe her was “eccentric.” She looked like Trelawney's older sister. Her robes were covered in layers of scarves, which appeared to be around her neck, arms, and head. She had dark skin and gray hair that flew out in all directions. She wore several rabbit’s foot necklaces. When she caught Harry staring at her, she chuckled and waved.

"On that note, we need to assign detention duty."

The staff groaned. Dumbledore held a hand up to silence them. "I know none of you want to wander the castle at all hours of the night in search of misbehaving students. I promise you that the night we have no rule breakers, I will no longer require you to patrol the halls."

"Since we have a new professor, shouldn't he have to patrol the hallway at least three times a week?" Flitwick's squeak came from across the room.

The entire room laughed. "Perhaps not at that frequency, but I agree he should start patrolling the castle. Since Severus is currently patrolling alone, why don't they pair up and Severus can show Harry how to properly discipline a student?"

Harry dared to cast a glance at Snape, who was completely unresponsive. The rest of the staff snickered. McGonagall shot Harry a sympathetic look.

"I don't mind. I caused so much trouble at my last school, I imagine I'm due for some grief."

Everyone roared with laughter. "Well, that's settled! Look how Harry is already fitting in!"

With his ears feeling hot, Harry wished that Dumbledore hadn't mentioned that fact. He had noticed it as well, how he already seemed more like a member of the staff than Snape, and it had been less than a day since he arrived.

Harry briefly heard Dumbledore discussing several problem students in the upper grades, Pomfrey mentioned an outbreak of dragon pox, and something about a new method of owl post. He was far too lost in thought to listen to the meeting.

He kept looking over at Snape. He didn't seem to be listening, but occasionally huffed when Dumbledore said something he didn't approve of. Not surprisingly, he huffed a lot.

The book seemed to fascinate him. Every once in a while, he would mark a line or two and scribble something in the margins. Much as he did in his copy of Advanced Potion-Making.

Harry was already dreading that night's detention sweeps with Snape. He had seemed adamant about not showing Harry the castle. Now, he was being forced to do that exact thing.

When he saw the other staff members stand up and resume their talking, he decided not to bother Snape, and instead introduce himself to Lydia. He was just as nervous talking to her as he was spending time with Snape.

Before he could even stand up, a finger tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and realized it was Lydia.

She spoke in an even French accent. "Harry Hitchens?"

Harry nodded.

"I am Lydia Charbonneau. I took this job as a favor to Dumbledore." 

Harry grinned at Lydia. "I'm Harry Hitchens. It's nice to finally meet you."

Lydia didn't seem impressed. "I hate children. Dumbledore desperately needed someone to fill in for the Defense job, and no one else seemed to want it. Some students say it's cursed, but I think Defense is just a difficult position to hold. Professor Merrythought was quite adept at teaching her students."

Harry nodded. "Dumbledore told me that he wanted me to cover your first and second year classes. Is that correct?"

Lydia passed him a huge pile of notes. "That it is, Hitchens. I don't like children, and anyone who isn't a teenager is snotty, both in attitude and in the amount of mucous they produce. If you are truly interested in taking over my job next year, you need to prove you can teach that age group."

Harry shrugged. The younger students weren't filled with raging hormones yet, so he figured that would be a good thing. "I can handle that, I suppose."

"Good. First year students pair up in houses. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in one class, and Gryffindors and Slytherins in the other. They meet three times a week for an hour. Second year classes have split Houses and meet for one hour once a week for notes, and a one hour practical session. Typically, I use it for more note-taking. Those children are positively horrid at taking notes."

"That seems easy enough."

"Don't count your blessings quite yet, Hitchens. I have my lessons planned through the end of the year. Read over them, so you know what you're getting into."

"I don't think that will be too much of a problem."

"I do hope you're right. I regretted my decision to take this job the moment I accepted it from Dumbledore."

"Lydia, if you don't mind my asking, why did you accept this position?"

Lydia adjusted the bangles on her wrist. "I was an Auror for thirty years. Albus helped me out in a tight spot when I performed some questionable magic when a group of criminals were detained. I owe Albus my career."

Harry nodded. It made sense. Lydia reminded him a bit of Moody. She seemed over alert, and not at all interested in working with children.

"Well, Hitchens, I hope you find what you're looking for here. I sure as hell didn't."

Harry chuckled. "I hope so, too."

Perhaps he could find a way home, as well.

**

Harry gulped. It was his first class ever. Lydia had warned him about the second year Gryffindors. There were eight of them, a relatively small class, but included a group of pranksters.

He wondered what 1982 Gryffindors looked like. Were they better behaved? He knew they stopped allowing physical abuse as a form of punishment at some time during his parents’ time at Hogwarts. Perhaps since they knew they couldn't be beaten anymore, they acted up.

Lydia had fairly extensive lesson plans written out for the entire year, which made Harry feel immensely lucky. Planning had been a skill he severely lacked. All he had to do was follow the plans Lydia wrote out and he would guarantee that his students learned.

It seemed fairly simple. Despite the fact that his second year had been an entire waste of time, he knew that first years got a very wide range of introductory topics, and second years were supposed to learn about specific hexes and blocking basic curses.

He watched as the group of Gryffindors slowly stepped inside. There were five boys and three girls, reminiscent of his own class. They took seats and stared at him curiously.

A flash of red hair caused Harry to do a double-take. It wasn't the cool, long-haired man he knew, but Harry could recognize him anywhere. Bill Weasley was in his first class.

Bill sat next to one of the girls and they pulled out their notebooks. He tickled her with his quill and she giggled.

The grouping of the rest of the students was interesting. Two boys and a girl sat together, smearing ink on each other's parchment; two other boys sat next to each other; and the other girl sat by herself, her quill behind her ear.

"Good morning." Harry smiled at the class. "I am Professor Hitchens and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor for the rest of the year."

"What happened to Professor Char-bone-OH?"

"Yeah, her accent was funny."

Harry took in a deep breath and looked at the boy and the girl, who were giggling. "You should really raise your hands when you need to ask a question. Professor Charbonneau will be working with third through seventh years. I am an old friend of the headmaster and expressed my interest in teaching this course. Professor Charbonneau offered to have me assist her with her classes."

The girl who called Lydia's accent "funny" raised her hand with an innocent expression on her face. Harry called on her.

"I'm Emma Dawlish. You look too young to be a good professor."

Harry was dumbfounded. Was this really what he was like when he was their age? He couldn't remember ever showing that much disrespect for a professor other than Snape, and Snape always goaded him into retaliating.

He decided to answer it in the simplest way possible. "The headmaster disagrees. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with him."

Emma Dawlish and her two male friends seemed satisfied with that answer.

"Now, Professor Charbonneau tells me that you have been practicing Disarming. Is that true?"

Emma spoke up again without raising her hand. "She usually spends most of class telling us to pay attention." 

The boy sitting next to her called out. "She's usually right. I have no idea what we're supposed to be learning."

Harry winced. This did not seem to be going well. Harry eyed the boy next to Emma. He had dark hair and blue eyes. "What is your name?"

"Zachary Melborne."

"Well, Zachary, with me, how about you actually listen and then do the work?"

Zachary seemed to think about this for a moment. "You mean pay attention in school?"

Harry shrugged. "Is that a difficult concept for you to understand?"

The third boy, who had remained silent during this entire exchange, spoke up. "Are you as boring as Professor Charbonneau?"

Again, Harry was rendered speechless. He thought about how he might respond if Dudley had asked him that question. "I have never had a class with Professor Charbonneau, so you'll have to tell me if I am."

That answer caused gleeful smiles on the trio's faces.

"Now that you are done asking me ridiculous questions, why don't we start the lesson?"

He looked through Lydia's lesson plans. "I'd like you to take out a roll of parchment and write everything you know about Disarming."

"What if we don't know anything?" Zachary yelled.

"Take a guess." Harry was already growing impatient with the trio of Gryffindors. He hoped there wasn't a group like this in every class.

The eight students pulled out parchment and quills and began writing. Harry noted that the girl sitting alone wrote quickly, pausing only to practice the wand movement for Expelliarmus.

"I don't know what to write." Zachary's voice was whiny and he stretched his arms above his head.

"If he doesn't have to write anything, I shouldn't either." Emma put her quill down and crossed her arms.

Harry sighed in frustration. How could he possibly get these students to behave? "Make something up."

He sat down and studied Lydia's notes. Maybe there was something in there that would help him understand how to deal with defiant students.

Snape was a terrible git, but he had full control of his class. As he recalled, so did McGonagall. What did they do that was different?

They were strict, Harry decided. They made it clear that students were to take the class seriously, and if they didn't, they would have to pay the consequences.

Harry wasn't like them, though. He wasn't strict. He enjoyed the subject and hoped that others would enjoy it, too.

He thought about Professor Flitwick. Flitwick was passionate about Charms and, in turn, it made Harry want to learn them. Sure, he sometimes failed the first few times, but the look of excitement on Flitwick's face when any of his students mastered a charm was more than enough for him to keep going.

"Put your quills down. Zachary, would you mind if I use you as part of a demonstration?"

Zachary stood up, the cool expression on his face suddenly replaced with fear.

"No worries, Mister Melbourne. I will make sure the wall is padded. Now, stand by the entrance to the classroom."

The other seven students watched, completely silent. Bill Weasley stared at Zachary, his mouth slightly open.

"I am going to Disarm you from across the room. Zachary, do try to hold onto your wand."  
Zachary gripped his wand, looking terrified.

" _Expelliarmus_!"

Zachary flew backwards and his wand burst out of his hand; Harry caught it easily.  
The entire class stood up and clapped. Even Zachary grinned, though his face was red with embarrassment.

"That is what an effective Disarming spell can do to you. A lot of people who duel say that you need advanced spells to duel, but in my experience in dueling, Disarming is the most effective. If you become fast enough at it, you don't need to know any other spells. Of course, that isn't to say that a strong Shield Charm would never come in handy.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts is not about hurting people. It is learning about what can harm you, and how to protect yourself. I can teach you about the dangers of the world, and equip you with the tools to keep you and your loved ones safe, _if_ you let me."

Harry looked around. The students were no longer passing notes or snickering. They were hanging on his every word.

Was this what McGonagall felt? Was this respect?

"I would like for you to take out your textbook and read pages twenty-three through thirty. When you finish, you should start a seven-inch essay about how Disarming can be useful in and out of dueling."

The students sat down and immediately took out their textbooks. Apparently, the hands-on example was effective enough to get the second year Gryffindors to take their work seriously.

Harry walked around the class as they read. He occasionally asked them their names and if they had questions about what they were reading. Emma, Zachary, and Ryan kept him at their table the longest, asking about how to improve their wand work.

At the end of class, he clapped his hands together. "Your homework is to finish the essay. It is due next class."

He watched as they walked out of the classroom, bursting with excitement to tell other students about the class they just experienced.

After checking the time and realizing he didn't have another class until that afternoon, Harry decided to pay a visit to the staff lounge and do some reading for his first year class. It seemed as though first year was primarily an introductory class and wouldn't be too difficult to find hands-on lessons for.

Hermione would be so proud of him. He was electing to do reading in his free time.

**

To his surprise, Snape was also sitting in the staff lounge. He was sitting at a table, his books piled high on top of each other. He was furiously scribbling onto a piece of parchment, his face dangerously close to the wet ink.

When Harry closed the door to the lounge, Snape jumped like a cat who had just been doused with water.

"Sorry." Harry winced and walked over to him.

Snape rolled his eyes and ignored Harry. Trying to follow Dumbledore's instructions, he decided to try and start a conversation.

"What are you working on? I imagine we will both have a lot of free time since we don't teach too many classes."

Snape had no response except for the sound of the quill on parchment.

"I just had my first lesson. It was scarier than I thought. Are the students all like that?"

Again, there was no response. Harry pursed his lips. "I think if I keep them motivated, they will be more likely to listen to me and respect me."

Finally, Snape spoke. "That's a foolish belief."

Of course. The first thing Snape would say to him in a conversation would be an insult. "I don't think so. I remember that I was motivated by professors who wanted me to succeed and showed me the results if I did. If I want the same results, I should do what they did."

Snape put his quill down and sat up, facing Harry for the first time since he pulled him off of the dungeon floor. "Don't walk around flaunting your skills in teaching just yet, Potter. You taught one successful class. Who cares?"

Harry huffed. "I do. Do you think when I woke up two days ago, I expected to teach a class of students today?"

Snape responded in a dry tone, "We can't always do what we want."

Harry peered over at the parchment in front of Snape. It was an application to become a Potions Master. Of course. Snape was essentially forced into teaching. He had probably wanted to do research or study potions instead of teach. He had been stuck teaching for over a year.

"I'm sorry."

Those clearly weren't the words Snape expected to hear. "What? You're sorry?"

"You can't do potions research, can you?"

Snape's face darkened. He covered the parchment with his arms. "That isn't any of your business, Potter."

"Hitchens."

"I find it easier to tell you to sod off when I call you by your real name."

"My real name is Harry."

Snape stood up, knocking his chair over. Without bringing his parchment or books, he turned and walked out of the teachers’ lounge.

Harry sighed. Couldn't Dumbledore ask him to befriend a different lonely person? "Perfect. Bloody perfect."

He plopped into a cushiony chair and opened a book titled _Teaching for the Hopeless,_ by Gilbert Schultz. Once he got started reading, it became easy for him to flip through the pages. It was quite interesting. He was excited to try some of the new management techniques the book suggested. As he read through it, he recognized some of the methods his own professors used. The one thing he wanted to focus on was keeping his students motivated. It was already apparent that this would be a difficult task, after just one class.

Before he knew it, several hours had passed. Snape walked through the door again and pulled a disgruntled face when he saw Harry.

Harry put the book down and forced a smile. "Hey, I'm sorry for what I said earlier." 

Snape's voice was barely above a whisper. "You don't need to apologize for anything."

Since he didn't hear venom in Snape's voice, Harry tried again. "I do. I have no right to ask you about anything personal." 

"You seem to know enough about me to write a book."

Harry snorted. "Does that bother you?"

Snape gathered himself, standing up straighter. "Do you think I like the idea that James Potter's son knows about my future? You know me, or at least the man I will become. You know my darkest secret, and used it to your advantage within twenty minutes of meeting me."

Harry sat down at the table next to Snape. What could he say that would convince Snape he wasn't a threat? "I'm sorry you feel like I wrongfully used that information. I promise I will never share that with anyone else. Frankly, I'm lonely, and it's only my third day here."

Snape continued gathering his things and didn't respond for quite some time. Finally, he spoke. "Haven't you already made friends with half the staff?"

"Right, because I want to spend all my time with a group of people at least thirty years older than me."

"Some of them aren't." 

"The ones who aren't I've already pegged as rumor-spreaders. Sinistra already told me about Vector's affair."

For a moment, it looked as though a smile slipped across Snape's face. As quickly as it came, it was gone. "Was I your Potions professor?"

Harry nodded. 

"I imagine I wasn't easy on you."

"You weren't. I hated you, and you hated me." 

"Yet, you would rather spend your time talking with me than the other professors. I find that hard to believe."

He couldn't speak. Not just yet. He looked up from the table, and found Snape staring intently at him. He looked so different, yet incredibly the same as the Snape he had known in his time. They had the same pained expressions and the same eyes that reminded Harry of tunnels, yet this Snape wasn’t affected by age yet. Any lines on his face were years away from happening, and his hair was still completely black.

Harry reached out for Snape's shoulder; he quickly jerked away, standing up from his chair. Harry sighed and then spoke. "How could I hate someone who tried to save my family?"

Snape didn’t answer. He finished gathering his things, maintaining an unreadable expression on his face. Without any other words, he turned and left the staff room.

Harry let out a long breath. They’d had a civil conversation. True, it hadn't been pleasant, but Snape hadn’t insulted him. Perhaps there was hope that they could become civil towards each other on a regular basis. 

He should have known that was too much to ask.

**

Sitting for dinner at the staff table was a far different experience than being at one of the House tables. Sitting at the front of the room meant you had a full view of what the students were doing. He was shocked at how aware the entire staff must have been of everything Harry had ever done at the Gryffindor table. He watched as students passed potions to each other under the table, along with copied pieces of homework, love letters, and what appeared to be a bottle of Firewhisky.

He turned to McGonagall. "Shouldn't we correct their behaviors?" 

She shook her head. "Goodness, no. We'll catch them later. We always do."

Sinistra leaned forward on the other side of McGonagall. "Plus, it's better to catch them in the act of breaking rules."

"I guarantee you that we will be enjoying that bottle of Firewhisky this weekend." McGonagall winked at Harry and took a bite of potatoes. 

Flitwick chuckled on Harry's other side. "My dear boy, if we called every student out for every little thing, we would stifle their creativity. As I tell my Ravenclaws, sometimes you can bend the rules for the purpose of academic progress."

Slughorn leaned in and spoke in a lowered voice. "Just don't get caught."

The members of the staff table laughed. Snape, who was sitting on the end, did not appear to be amused at all. With a huff, he stood up and walked out of the Great Hall.

Harry wasn't as entertained as the rest of the staff, either. If the other professors knew about all of the foolish things he had done, had they put him in more danger than necessary? Was that how Snape knew that Harry had his old Potions textbook?

Sinistra passed him a slice of ham. "Harry, you've got to try this." 

Harry took a bite. He really had missed eating as well as he did when he was at Hogwarts. Usually, he ordered off a takeaway menu. The lady who answered phones at New Surma Tandoori knew him by name and had his orders memorized. Occasionally, he would go to the Weasley house for dinner, but that usually made things awkward between him and Ginny, and Molly would try and set him up with eligible men.

That reminded him that three days had already passed and he hadn't even had time for a wank, let alone time to sneak away to the Hog's Head and find a bloke.

The next two nights, he had to patrol the corridors with Snape. That meant that the night after, Saturday night, he could have an evening to himself. 

Lydia had given him stacks of exam papers to mark. Apparently, even though he had taken over the first and second years, she still expected him to do her busywork for years three through seven.

It wasn't as though it was a terrible burden. It kept his mind off the fact that he might never be able to get home, along with the fact that Snape was near impossible to talk to. Dumbledore had pulled him aside earlier that afternoon and asked—his eyes twinkling, of course—if he had been able to befriend Snape yet. Harry had responded that Snape was just about as easy to talk to as he had been when Harry was a student.

He finished his dinner and rose from the table. It wouldn't hurt to start patrolling the hallways early.

** 

Harry wandered along the corridors. As Snape had rather unpleasantly pointed out, things at Hogwarts really hadn't changed. The portraits were mostly in the same places. The trick staircase was actually the fourth one from the top instead of the third, but that made it quick to learn after his first encounter with it.

Some of the corridors had clearly been renovated when he was a student, but Harry appreciated the musty old hallways.

After walking up to the Astronomy tower in search of a couple in a romantic tryst, Harry heard footsteps coming up the spiral staircase. He took out his wand and waited for them to draw closer.

Just as he saw a shadow, Harry popped out.

Both of them yelped. Harry's wand was lifted from his hands and he found himself pinned to a wall and staring into Snape's eyes.

"Do you like tackling me?" Harry tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice but doubted he was successful.

Snape released him and handed back his wand. "I get a certain degree of gratification in seeing you piss yourself, yes." 

Harry straightened his robes. "I thought I might catch students up here in the Astronomy tower." 

"Was that where you lost your delicate flower?" Snape's voice was mocking.

Harry made a face. "If you must know, I lost my virginity in the right-hand stall in the Three Broomsticks."

Without missing a beat, Snape kept a straight face. "Apparently, Harry Potter isn't as proper as his father."

"I was never a bully, either."

Snape made a growling sound but didn't answer.

"What?"

"You pity me."

Harry was silent. Perhaps he did pity Snape a bit, but what was wrong with that? 

"I don't want your pity. You can keep your foolish Gryffindor notions about friendship and loyalty." 

"How did you know I was in Gryffindor?"

Snape barked a laugh. "Please. Every square inch of you is completely Gryffindor." 

"The Sorting Hat didn't know where to put me." Harry decided that since he knew all of Snape's secrets, perhaps he could share some of his.

"The Sorting Hat isn't as intelligent as it presents itself to be, then."

"Dumbledore once said to me that the Sorting Hat sorts too soon."

Snape's face clouded over again. "The Sorting Hat knows what we think, how we feel. It can't predict the things that we do, but it can tell you the man you will become." 

Without realizing it, Harry had walked all the way down the spiral staircase with Snape. They looked around. Harry finally spoke up. "I know you don't want to, but would it really be all that bad if we patrolled the corridors together? I'm sure you could help me learn how to properly punish students out of bed." 

"If you feel it's extremely necessary. Do not talk."

Harry followed Snape all the way to the dungeons, then up a spiral staircase on the west end of the castle. They caught a seventh year couple snogging behind a tapestry and a small group of Ravenclaw second years who had tried to sneak into the library. All in all, it seemed to be a rather uneventful night.

It was awkward, following someone with the speed of a gazelle and not talking at all. Snape had taken the lead with the students caught out of bed. Harry noticed that the seventh year students in particular had very little respect for Snape. He imagined it was because they knew him from when he was a student. A Slytherin up to his nose in the Dark Arts and bullied by the most popular students in school probably wouldn't carry much respect around Hogwarts.

Once their late night shift had ended, Harry yawned. It was nearly three in the morning and he desperately wanted to sleep.

He looked down to adjust his robes. "Would you like to come to my quarters for a cup of tea?"

When he didn't hear an answer, he looked around. Snape had already left.

**

The next day went very much the same way. Harry taught a class, observed in Flitwick's room, did some light reading, and patrolled the corridors with Snape.

He was relieved that he got to sleep in the next morning. He didn't have any classes on Saturday.

He and Dumbledore had made plans to do some research on time travel. Harry had already collected several books on the matter in the Restricted Section in the library, and Dumbledore had pulled several tomes out from his personal collection. Perhaps with some research, he could find a way to get home.

Yet, after several days in here at Hogwarts, he already felt as though he had a purpose again. Being Hermione's test subject was occasionally fun, but mostly required some amount of pain on his part. Students would greet him in the hallway and ask him about a lesson. The prankster trio of Gryffindor second year students ran around proclaiming to anyone who listened to them that Harry had used Zachary in a real life simulation.

Harry finally got out of bed and got himself ready for the day. He couldn't wait till that night, when he could see what gay blokes in the 1980s were like.

He met Dumbledore in the headmaster's office. They went right to work.

After hours of reading through theorizing and details on Time-Turners, Harry was ready to give up. He turned to Dumbledore, who gave him a knowing smile.

"I'm surprised you managed to make it through that many books, Harry."

Harry grinned. "I have some experience doing research, sir."

"Something tells me these tomes won't give us what we need."

"Do you know of any other books that might help give us answers?"

Dumbledore shuffled through his pile of books and showed Harry a list of references. "It looks as though we may want to consult some Muggle research, as well."

Harry looked at the first title, _The History of Time Travel_. It looked promising. "Where can we find books like these?"

"I imagine a public library. Perhaps you might want to take Severus with you into London?"

Harry's face darkened. "He doesn't want anything to do with me, sir. I'm not sure what else I can do."

"Has he opened up at all since your first encounter?"

"Enough to tell me to sod off."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Harry, do remember that for Severus, any verbal interactions are both rare and special."

Harry sighed. "I suppose."

Dumbledore clasped his hands together. "Now then, it is a beautiful fall day. I can't imagine you would want to spend all your time in my office when you plan on going out tonight."

Harry didn't bother giving Dumbledore an inquisitive look. Nothing would ever slip by that man. He thanked Dumbledore, gathered his notes, and headed back to his quarters.  
He had a night to get ready for.

***


	2. Habits

Harry made his way to the Three Broomsticks, his first stop for the night. He planned on heading into the Muggle village a short way away and visit their club scene, after gathering some liquid courage.

Several witches stared him up and down as he walked inside. He wore skintight dark green robes that would make him irresistible. Despite the fact that they were the wrong gender, Harry was glad that his sex appeal wasn't only evident in the year 2002.

He approached Madam Rosmerta, who looked far more appealing at her younger age. Harry smirked as he thought of Ron, who would have had a heart attack looking at her in 1982. He ordered a Firewhisky and began looking around the room for potential suitors.

Despite the fact that the Wizarding world was behind the times, Harry knew that gay witches and wizards were quite common and widely accepted in its society. It was unusual for a gay couple to marry, but Harry had little interest in settling down with someone. He just needed to find a fit bloke searching for a good time.

After several encounters with witches asking to buy him a drink, Harry decided to head to the Hog's Head. He hadn't seen any gay men, or at least none who interested him.  
From the moment he walked in, Harry knew that the Hog's Head was a better place to go. Ambient music played in the background as witches and wizards danced in a corner. A group of old wizards sat around a circular table playing cards, but Harry didn't spend much of his attention on them.

Instead, his focus went to the bar. A man with a perfect arse leaned against a stool, sipping an ale. His attention moved to Harry, who gave him a small smile and a nod. They stared at each other for several moments until Harry made his way into the men's room, giving him a knowing glance.

Harry's heart raced. It hadn't been very long since his last casual encounter, but the stress of the past week had wound him up rather tightly. He wanted his dick sucked, and he could barely stand the anticipation.

The nameless man finally stepped into the loo. Harry barely gave him any time to react, jerking him forward and pressing a searing kiss to his lips. The other man wasted no time either, sliding Harry's trousers down and grasping hold of Harry's already hard prick. They stumbled their way into an open stall.

Harry grabbed hold of Perfect Arse's hair and pushed him down. "Take it all."

It was good to know that blow jobs in 1982 were just as good as they were in the present. He didn't last long, and forced Arse Man to lap up his come and swallow every last drop.

"My turn?" The other man leaned into the nape of Harry's neck and kissed him.

Harry gave him a squeeze. "If you're the best piece of arse to come through the doors tonight, you can take me home."

"Let's hope I don't find someone else, either." Perfect Arse's voice held a more annoyed tone. He gave Harry one last glance before he turned around, unlocked the stall door, and left. Harry shrugged, pulled up his pants and trousers, and stepped into the view of the mirror to fix his hair.

The second stall door opened, and Harry's mouth dropped open. Snape and another man exited the stall, both looking rather tousled.

Harry quickly caught himself staring and busied himself by washing his hands. He could tell from the mirror that Snape hadn't noticed Harry yet. Snape was gay? Furthermore, Snape had casual encounters in men's loos?

He turned off the tap, leapt for a paper towel, dried off his hands, and made for the door.

"Like what you see, Hitchens?"

Harry froze and turned around. Snape was smirking at him. He wasn't sure what he expected, if Snape would be just as or more humiliated than he was. Either way, he wasn't expecting an open confrontation from the man who spent more time avoiding conversation with Harry than the Dursleys did.

"I'm sorry; I swear I wasn't spying on you."

Snape made a clucking sound with his tongue. "Something tells me you were in the stall next to me. Tell me, _Harry_ , were you the sucker or the suckee?"

Harry noticed Snape's words were slurred and his eyes were heavily dilated. "Snape, are you high?"

Snape strode forward. Despite the fact that his robes were lopsided and his hair was messy, Harry still cowered in fear. "What does it matter to you? Did Albus ask you to be my babysitter?"

Harry knew that there was no sense to try and reason with Snape in his state of mind. "Why don't you come back to Hogwarts with me? You must be tired after that round in the stall."

Snape snorted. "I could last ten more rounds. Want to test me? I've never fucked a Potter before. Not for lack of trying, of course."

Harry patted Snape's shoulder and shook his head. "Something tells me you'll regret this conversation very much in the morning."

"Fuck the morning." Snape took out a vial from his front pocket, opened it, and tipped a pill into his hand.

Harry snatched the pill away from Snape. "You're already too high to Apparate. Let me help you." He glanced down at the pill. While he didn't recognize it, he could probably bet it was Muggle made.

Snape glared at Harry. "Give it back."

Harry crossed his arms. "You'll have to come outside with me to get it back."

"Fine, but then I'm going back in for more."

Snape followed Harry outside. Before Harry could enjoy the blast of the cool breeze, Snape tackled him to the ground. His breath was hot on Harry's face, and reeked of alcohol. Despite the fact that they were the same age, Harry was still quicker. He shoved Snape's pill into his pocket and pushed him off.

"Dammit, Snape, get off me."

"Give it back!"

"No!"

Harry made sure Snape was holding onto him and Apparated back to the Hogwarts gate. Snape stared around in shock long enough to let go of Harry, turned around, and vomited.  
That seemed to be enough to get Snape to calm down. Harry walked them to the entrance hall in silence, leading Snape through the corridors, down the stairs, and into the dungeons.  
Harry finally broke the silence. "I'm not sure where your quarters are."

Snape took in a deep breath. "I can find my way back on my own."

"I want to help you."

"For the last time, Potter, I don't need your help."

"Why do you need those pills then?" Harry boldly took the bottle out of Snape's front pocket and studied the label. "These are a Muggle prescription for depression. Snape, these are dangerous when mixed with alcohol."

Snape stopped and turned around. "Why are you so concerned about me? Can't I enjoy one night without your incessant whining?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. At least Snape was starting to sound more like himself, and not a drunken fool. "Now, where are your quarters?"

Snape rolled his eyes and pointed at the door in front of them. He waved his wand over a tapestry next to it and the door slid open. He turned back to Harry and glowered at him. "I don't need anyone to give me a bath or change my clothes for me. I can get myself into bed just fine."

Harry's cheeks burned as he pictured himself bathing Snape. He blushed harder as he realized he had just thought about his greasy-haired Potions professor naked. Harry was lucky that Snape was still only half conscious and unaware of his embarrassing thoughts.

He shook himself away from said thoughts. "Yes, I'm sure you can. Er, don't be too furious with me tomorrow morning."

Before Snape could respond, Harry turned and walked away, hastening his steps until it became a run.

It was natural that he would picture Snape in a sexual way. He was a young man in his early twenties, who had been deprived of a great fuck with a man with a perfect arse. He and Snape were the same age. It made sense that he would have thoughts like that, even if they weren't intentional.

Once he got back to his quarters, he took a shot of Firewhisky and headed to bed. He was terrified about what would happen the next morning once Snape remembered everything he had done.

**

Since he hadn't gotten the chance to get terribly drunk the night before, Harry woke up with just a slight headache. He rolled over and cocooned himself inside his blanket.

He checked the time and gasped. Breakfast would be over soon. While he wasn't on breakfast duty that morning, he still craved toast and juice. He managed to get himself dressed and comb his hair into a somewhat manageable style. He splashed some water on his face to help him look more alert and headed downstairs to eat.

Since it was a Sunday morning, the Great Hall wasn't as crowded as it usually was. Harry joined Professor McGonagall at the staff Ttable and reached for the butter.

"Did you have a late night?"

Harry yawned. He figured Snape wouldn't want him sharing what had happened with one of the biggest school gossips. "Not exactly. I went to bed much earlier than I expected."

"Did you meet any nice men?"

Harry choked on his juice.

"Harry dear, I can spot a gay man in my sleep."

He gaped at her. McGonagall was very similar to the person she would become ten years later. Yet, there was a spark in her eyes that wasn't there when Harry was in school. She was more mischievous and friendlier.

"Close your mouth, Hitchens, you look ridiculous."

Harry quickly covered his mouth and busied himself by cutting the crusts off his toast. "I'm sorry, it's just that no one has ever outed me that quickly."

A look of concern crossed over McGonagall's face. "You're not still hiding it, are you?"

"Of course not. I was surprised you knew about me, that's all."

"You never answered my question."

Harry took a bite of his toast and responded the best way he knew how. "There was someone, but I don't think I'll see him again."

"A casual encounter?" McGonagall wiggled her eyebrows.

"I'm not sure how to talk about this with you."

Just then, Snape stepped inside the Great Hall. He ignored Harry and McGonagall and headed to the opposite end of the table.

McGonagall scoffed at Snape. "I know you shouldn't share anything about the future, but do tell me that Severus becomes more pleasant to be around."

Harry laughed. "I'm afraid not."

They continued talking through the end of breakfast, discussing Harry's first week at school. McGonagall was easy to confide in. She reassured Harry that he was doing a great job of teaching, and he would only improve as he got to know his students better. She recommended a few more texts for Harry to look over to help his planning and management.

The hall was completely empty by the time they finished talking. Harry leaned back in his chair and pressed his finger to the last few crumbs of toast on his plate, putting them in his mouth. "Thanks, Professor."

"Please, call me Minerva." She looked him up and down. "Even though Albus altered your looks, you are still very clearly James and Lily's son."

Harry laced his fingers together. "Thanks. I know my dad was a bully back when he was at Hogwarts. I was never like that."

Minerva smiled and stared at the empty mug of coffee in front of her. "Your father was a great man. He was spoiled rotten by his parents, which gave him a rather superior attitude. However, it's also what made nearly everyone adore him. His friends and admirers were loyal to him. I can tell that you haven't had an easy life yet, but I can see that same spark of confidence. Don't be afraid to let that show."

Harry reached out and put his hand over hers. "I'm glad I have you here, and that you know who I really am."

Minerva reached forward and hugged Harry. "Not a moment goes by where I don't feel guilty about leaving you with the Dursleys. It's good to know that you grow up to be such a wonderful man."

**

Harry walked along the shelves in the library. He figured he had some time to look for the books Minerva recommended to him. There was still a stack of papers to grade on his desk, but he was trying not to think about them. He was also trying to ignore the memory of Snape tackling him the night before. While initially he had been distracted by the man's alcohol breath, he couldn't help but think about the feeling of Snape's robes draping across his body and his fingers digging into Harry's sides.

Snape had just surprised him. That was all.

He rounded the corner and smacked straight into the man he was trying to get out of his head. Books, bits of parchment, and their wands fell to the floor.

Snape glared daggers at Harry as he bent forward to pick up his dropped books. He said nothing.

"Good morning?" Harry attempted to sound casual, but ended up sounding rather constipated.

"Is it?"

"Are you feeling any better after last night?"

A hand grasped Harry's throat. There was no one around and Harry's wand was out of reach. For the first time since Snape had found Harry in the dungeons, he was truly afraid. Snape leaned in and spoke in a very low voice. "Nothing happened last night. You didn't see me last night. We went about our own separate business."

Harry tried to speak, but all that came out was a squeaking sound. Snape released his hands and Harry began sputtering, taking in deep breaths. He quickly reached for his wand, stuffing it into his pocket. "What the bleeding hell was that all about?"

"I want you to leave me alone."

He knew he should do as Snape demanded but, just as Minerva had said, Harry was his father's son. "I'll leave you alone once you're able to take care of yourself!"

Snape's face darkened and he clenched his fists. He spoke clearly and evenly, his voice laced with venom. "You are not my keeper, Hitchens. I'm not broken."

Harry could see pain written all over Snape's face. He wanted to help Snape but he had no idea where to start. "Fine. I'll leave you alone."

"That's it, then? You'll just leave me be?" There was a hint of disappointment in Snape's voice.

Harry felt his heart thumping in his chest. Was Harry calling Snape's bluff? Did Snape actually want Harry's help? "If you want someone to talk to, I'm available. Otherwise, I'll stay away. Like you said, every other professor at Hogwarts would rather talk to me."

Snape crossed his arms and clutched his books much as a child would. He glowered at Harry. "Fine."

Harry watched Snape turn and leave the library. He sighed, his heartbeat finally dropping to a manageable rate. He should have known better than to confront Snape about the night before.

**

Several weeks passed and it was as though Harry had never left Hogwarts. The biggest change, of course, was that he ate at the staff table and taught classes instead of attending them.

He made quick friends with Vector and Sinistra, or Septima and Aurora, as he came to call them. They were enormous gossips, but a lot of fun. Slughorn—Harry could never call him Horace—was very much the same. He wasn't quite as paranoid as he had been when Harry knew him. However, Harry could see a wave of guilt crash over Slughorn's face every once in a while. Perhaps he went back to that fateful day he told Tom Riddle about Horcruxes.

His classes kept getting better and he began to enjoy what he was doing. He assigned his first detention in the second week of teaching. Emma Dawlish dropped frog spawn on a first year as he left the classroom. It turned out that Mark Avery was allergic to frog spawn and broke out in hives. Looking back on it, he regretted his response. He spent several minutes gaping at the situation as Avery howled in pain, rushed over to a rather bewildered Emma, and chewed her out in front of the entire hallway. Then, when she burst into tears, Harry hugged her and told her he was sorry.

The rest of the staff roared with laughter when they heard what happened and advised him to keep his temper under control the next time—and not to apologize for making students cry.

He hadn't spoken to Snape since the incident in the library. Snape steered clear of him and Harry didn't go out of his way to see him.

He spent several evenings searching through Muggle and Wizarding books on time travel and ways to possibly get sent back to his timeline. It initially seemed fruitless, but finally, he discovered something in a Wizarding text from the mid-1800s.

"Professor! This chapter is definitely describing what I experienced!"

Harry read out loud the passage:

_It is theorized that it is possible to travel through time using light. The vessel, or the time traveler, must be able to generate enough light around him to move quickly through time and space._  
 _This type of time travel is different from previously mentioned methods. It creates what Muggles refer to as a wormhole, or a door to an alternate dimension. In some cases, the vessel could travel to a completely different world than they know. In other instances, the vessel will travel to a time they may be familiar with. However, it is still a different dimension. They cannot change the timeline they are from, because they are in a parallel universe. They could even travel to the future._  
 _It is hard to say if the vessel could even return to their old world, or even if they could get back to the correct time. If the vessel initially had no control over the light to travel through the wormhole, it is unlikely they will ever be able to return to the correct dimension in the precise time they left it._

Harry stumbled over the last few sentences. It stated rather clearly that there was little to no hope of getting back to the dimension he was from, much less the correct time.

Dumbledore shot him a fascinated look. "My dear boy, you aren't just from the future. You're from an alternate dimension."

The fact that he couldn't return home was still hitting him rather hard. "I will never go home."  
The words were neither a question nor a statement. They simply hung in the air, a cruel reminder about Harry's fate. If he had known an experiment on atoms would have caused this, he never would have agreed to do it.

"Tell me, Harry, are there any differences between here and the dimension you came from?" Dumbledore seemed to regard Harry with a new sense of interest.

Harry shook his head. He felt numb, yet as though a huge weight had fallen onto his chest. "I'm sorry, Professor. Could you please excuse me?"

Without waiting for a response, Harry stood from the table and ran out of the room.

Tears were welling up in his eyes. He couldn't cry in the corridors. Hell, he hadn't cried in ages.

He ran down to the dungeons. If his memory served him correctly, there was an unused classroom used for emergency supplies on the right hand side.

He was right. He flung open the door, slammed it shut, and fell back against it.

His sobs came quickly and painfully. Not only was he stuck here, but he wasn't even able to be himself. The Harry Potter of this dimension would soon come to Hogwarts, Voldemort would return, Snape would kill Dumbledore, and he would watch everything play out. A Harry Potter from a different world would never be able to live happily in this world. He would never see his friends again. Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna were toddlers in this time. They wouldn't want to befriend a Defense professor who looked like their real friend, Harry Potter.

He would stay here for a year, and then move out of the country. He could find somewhere else to live, somewhere where no one knew the name Harry Potter.

"Whoever is crying in here had better not be a Slytherin."

The door opened, sliding Harry along the floor by his arse. Snape peered around the door and smirked. "Definitely not a Slytherin."

Harry wiped his eyes, trying to appear nonchalant about the fact that Snape had just caught him crying in the dungeons. "I'm just taking a break."

"Of course you are."

"We're the same age, you know. You don't have to treat me like one of your students."  
Snape crossed his arms and looked down at Harry. "Perhaps if you acted our age, I wouldn't have to treat you like you were twelve."

Harry jumped up and stepped close to Snape. "You don't understand what's happening."

He scoffed. "That sounds like the largest bag of teenage drivel I've ever heard."

"I just found out that it would be nearly impossible to send me back to my time… and place."

The expression on Snape's face softened a fraction. "You're here for good?"

Harry nodded. "There's already one of me here, so what am I supposed to do? I can't even be myself here! Excuse me for acting like a child after I find out that I will never be able to go home or see my friends."

Snape was silent. Harry felt anger surge through his veins. "Moreover, you have all the opportunity in the world! You have Dumbledore on your side! Snape, do you have any clue what that means for you, what it could mean for your future? Instead of sulking about being trapped and unable to do research, you could help change the lives of children! You could inspire them to become Potions masters themselves! You act as much like a child as I do."

Harry knew he had gone too far. Snape's face clouded over and he gripped Harry's shoulder as he spoke, his voice trembling. "Don't act as though you know me, Potter. For some reason, you know who I am, but you are unaware of what I am capable of."

Despite his conscience telling him to turn and run, Harry shoved Snape away and glared. "I have more than just a few memories. I know how miserable you are in the future. You're a mess of a man who hates his job and his life."

Snape plunged his hands down his robe and cast a curse at Harry. With his Auror instincts kicking in, Harry dodged the spell just in time, casting a Shield Charm over himself.

"Stay away from me, Potter."

Harry reached out for Snape's wrist and pulled him closer. "I just want to help you."

Snape gave him a look of disbelief. "You're trying to help me by ignoring me for several weeks and then, when you trespass in my dungeons, you insult me?"

Harry was stumped. Was that how Snape saw it? Furthermore, was that true? He let go of Snape's wrist and tried to come up with something to say. "I didn't mean to—"

"There you go, _again_ , pitying me and expecting that some sordid apology will get me to understand your reasons for acting like a complete and utter lunatic since you came here."

"What do you want from me? I've tried being nice and I've tried ignoring you. It doesn't seem like you're happy at either extreme."

"I want you to go!" Snape clenched his fists.

"Why?" Harry raised his voice, throwing his hands in the air. When Snape didn't answer, Harry asked again. "Why?"

Without any warning, Snape dove at Harry and tackled him to the ground. The next thing he knew, a fist had connected with his face and his glasses went flying across the room.  
Harry shoved Snape as hard as he could and managed to get him away. "What the fuck was that for?"

With nothing but a growl, Snape lunged at Harry again, hitting him in the side of the jaw. When Snape's fist came at him a third time, Harry grabbed Snape's wrist and twisted it. He spun Snape around and grabbed his other wrist, which was flinging around, attempting to hit Harry.

"Let go of me, Potter!"

"Not until you calm down! Are you insane?"

"If I answer yes, will that convince you to leave here?" Snape's breaths were shallow and his entire body shook. Despite the fact that Snape acted incredibly tough, it was obvious to Harry how afraid he was in this moment.

Harry tried to let go of his anger. Fighting Snape would make things even worse than they already were. He dropped his voice. "You know very well the reason I can't leave. It's the same reason as you. I don't have anywhere else to go."

As he spoke those words, Harry slowly became aware of the fact that there were students gaping at them in the doorway.

**

"I cannot fathom why the two of you would behave like this, let alone in front of students."

Harry hung his head. The last time he felt this ashamed of himself, he had used Sectumsempra on Malfoy. The man who wrote that spell was the very reason he found himself in a similar situation yet again.

Snape sat back in his chair and kept an expression so cold it would shatter ice.

"Sir, we didn't know there were students around. We hadn't planned on fighting; it just happened."

Snape scoffed.

"Severus, is there anything I should know?"

"Your Golden Boy over here isn't as innocent as he makes himself out to be."

Harry stared at Snape in outrage. Before he could respond, Dumbledore held up a hand to silence them both. "It appears as though the two of you need to work on being more civil towards each other. Would you like to tell me what caused Felicia and Emmett to find the two of you in a death grip?"

Harry knew that if he told Dumbledore the truth, Snape would hate him forever. He stayed quiet.

"I don't typically have to discipline teachers for fighting on school grounds. However, I feel as though if the two of you took over supervising duties for Hogsmeade visits the rest of the year, that should be enough."

Harry shrugged while Snape looked furious. "Headmaster, you know I hate going to that bloody village."

Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Pardon me, Severus, but I've heard differently."

Harry's mind immediately jumped to that night he found a high Snape emerging from a bathroom stall with another man. Snape's mind must have done the same, as he paled and didn't answer.

"When is the next Hogsmeade weekend?" Harry spoke as softly as he could, trying not to aggravate Snape any more than he already had.

"Tomorrow. Any plans either of you may have had should be cancelled at once."

Harry hadn't gone out in a while, mainly concerned he'd run into Snape again. Snape looked livid.

"Sir, it was all my fault. Snape shouldn't have to be punished for my outburst."

Dumbledore gave Harry a piercing look, then switched his focus to Snape. "Harry, don't think of this as a punishment. Think of it more as a way for you two to get to know each other better."

"Why would I want to get to know _him_?" Snape jerked his head towards Harry.

Dumbledore's face remained impassive. "We've been over this, Severus."

Harry frowned. Had Dumbledore been giving Snape the same instructions? To befriend him? It hadn't seemed to work. It seemed as though Dumbledore, no matter what age, was still manipulative.

Not wanting to stick around, he turned to Snape. "I'll meet you with the other students at the gate around three?"

Snape huffed but didn't say anything.

"Well, if that's all, I think I'm going to ice my black eye." Harry stood up from the armchair he had been sitting in and left the room.

**

"Are you ready to watch fifty students stuff themselves with sweets and butterbeer?" Harry did his best to muster a smile at Snape.

Snape turned away, his robes billowing behind him. He yelled at the students to stop playing and move, and then walked quickly in front of the group.

Harry chased after Snape. Despite being in rather good shape, he was panting by the time he caught up to him. "Wouldn't it be easier to at least try and be friendly?"

Snape scoffed, "Hitchens, I would rather be brewing Wolfsbane than be friendly to you."

Harry stopped. "Has that already been invented?"

Snape finally glanced over at Harry. "It's still in testing."

"I didn't think you invented it."  
"Of course I didn't. Do you really think I'd want to help _werewolves_?" Snape spat the final word as though he were describing a slimy insect. "No, I consulted in its prototype stage."

"Oh." Harry paused. "It helps revolutionize the way werewolves can live in the Wizarding world."

"I don't really care."

"I tried brewing it in my Auror class."

"I see you used the verb, 'try.'"

"I did. I struggled with the steady stirring."

"I imagine you would. It takes a Potions master to get it right."

As they walked, Harry continued ignoring Snape's snipes at him, instead trying to get him to talk more about his potions brewing. In between the insults, sarcasm, and an inordinate amount of huffing, Harry learned Snape was working on several burn salves, a cure for spattergroit, and a version of Amortentia that would limit the obsessive quality it possessed. Perhaps Dumbledore was right—there was something below the surface of Snape's insults if one simply listened.

Finally, Harry found Snape and himself sitting at a high top in the Three Broomsticks with pints of ale in their hands.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"I imagine you're going to ask it whether I say yes or no."

"Are you gay?"

Snape took a long drink from his mug and looked around the room.

"It's just—I thought you liked women—based on what I know about you from the future."

"Why do you care what my sexual orientation is?"

"I don't." Harry spoke very quickly and flushed, though he wasn't sure why. "I'm sorry I asked."

They sat in silence for a few moments, neither looking at the other.

Harry finally spoke. "I am."

"What?" Snape swiveled in his seat to look at Harry.

"Gay."

He was met with silence.

"I just mean—it's okay—if you are. I am, too. I'm not judging you."

Snape continued to stare at him, his expression blank. Harry took a deep breath, exasperated. If only Snape would give him _something_ , perhaps they could be collegial to each other.

Before Harry could open his mouth and say something just as stupid, the door flung open. His Auror instincts kicked in as shouts from customers rang through the air and Harry yanked Snape and himself to the floor.

There were two men standing in the doorway, dressed in plain black robes. They had scarves around their faces. Both were staring directly at Snape, their wands slowly drawing upward.

One of the men lunged forward, pointing his wand. "SNAPE!"

Harry was quicker than the stranger. He instantly Stunned him and turned his wand to the other man in black.

"I don't know who you are, but you are standing in the way of a murderous traitor." The man in the doorway gritted his teeth, visibly shaking. "He killed my family. He made me watch."

"Does that make it okay to kill him?" Harry kept his breathing steady. He could hear Snape moving to stand up.

"Look at him! He's out here in broad daylight, enjoying a pint! He didn't even get an Azkaban sentence!"

"Who are you to judge me?" Snape curled his lips into a sneer, despite the bead of sweat that trickled down his cheek. He raised his wand to the other man and drew a breath.

"Snape, stop. You, put down your wand."

"Who do you think you are?" The stranger's voice rose. "You're just as bad as him, you know. You're protecting a murderer."

"This is not the time nor the place to discuss Snape's record."

Harry briefly glanced around. The patrons at the Leaky Cauldron had either left or stayed in their seats, watching. Students gaped at the scene, unsure how to react.

The man in black stared at Harry and Snape, his eyes frantically scanning them. When he didn't respond, Harry spoke again. "Severus Snape's fate is not up to your discretion. He has already been tried for his actions under Lord Voldemort, and was deemed innocent."

Despite the fact that everyone twitched at the name of the recently defeated Dark Lord, the man still held his wand out. Finally, he took in a shuddering breath. "My wife. My two children. Dead." His voice grew deader, more hollowed. "I will never see my family again, because of the man standing behind you."

He threw a curse at Snape, but he quickly dodged it. Harry retaliated with a Stunning spell, which missed.

It turned into a full-on duel. Harry and the attacker shot spell after spell at each other. Seeming to regain his composure, Snape stood and sent a Stunning spell at the other man, which hit its mark.

Harry and Snape stared at each other, unsure of what to say. It was silent for a few moments, until finally a Slytherin fifth year spoke. "Er—Professor Hitchens? Should we go get someone to help?"

Harry managed to nod. "Yes, how about you and your friends go find everyone? I have a feeling we will need to cut this Hogsmeade trip short. Madam Rosmerta? Would you use the Floo to bring someone from law enforcement over here?"

He turned to Snape, whose expression was still unreadable. "Are you alright?"

"Of course." His words sounded fine, but his voice gave the impression that he was anything but alright.

Harry stepped closer to Snape. "They don't know what you had to endure, what you still have to endure."

"Hitchens, stop mouthing off about what you don't understand."

Harry held up a hand in defense. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I just wanted you to know that I meant everything that I said to that psycho."

Snape pursed his lips, clearly trying to come up with a retort. 

Harry smiled, nodded, and said, "You're welcome."

**

As is the norm, after one saves someone else's life, two people can't help but grow fond of each other. While Snape's fondness wasn't as obvious as most of the human population, it was evident in how he allowed Harry to sit next to him during staff meetings without a biting remark. It was evident when they reviewed their lesson plans at the same table in the library.

It became even clearer when a Pepperup Potion was left in Harry's box when he had a particularly biting cold a few weeks after the Hogsmeade incident.

While Snape was not verbally friendlier, it seemed as though his aggression towards Harry was gone.

Harry couldn't have been more relieved. He was able to drop his guard a bit, knowing that he wasn't about to get into an argument every time he saw a hooked nose glance his way.

He watched Snape constantly. Harry hadn't realized how hard the years after Voldemort's death were on Snape. No one trusted him, and he trusted no one. Dumbledore had hinted to Harry that it was not the first time someone had attacked Snape since the war.

Harry’s weekends were spent mostly with Septima and Aurora, who decided that he needed a date to the Yule Ball. He insisted it was ridiculous to bring a date to a dance he was simply chaperoning, but they searched high and low for men he could bring.

Without his fame status, it was easier to talk to the blokes they brought him. However, there was no spark of chemistry. It wasn't as though he expected there to be, as it was the same reason why he never settled down in his own time.

"What about you two?" After going on yet another blind date where the man resembled Dudley Dursley, Harry had had enough.

"What about us?" Aurora turned to Harry, still giggling about Harry's review of the greedy, fat, and piggish date.

"Why can't I go with both of you?"

"You don't want to go with us. We won't shag you after the ball is over."

Harry grimaced. "Nor do I want you to. But really, you've set me up with five blokes and it's been a disaster every time. How about I have two beautiful professors, one on each side?"

Septima glanced at Aurora and shrugged. "It would be better than our next suggestion."

Harry glanced down at the photo of the next bloke they wanted to introduce him to and his eyes widened. Remus Lupin.

He quickly nodded, briefly wondering about the sexuality of his favorite DADA professor. "It would probably be for the best."

**

Midterm exams came and went quickly. As expected, Bill Weasley had the top marks in Harry's second year class.

Nearly all of the fourth years and up stayed at Hogwarts for the hols. The Yule Ball, despite its not being a Triwizard year, was still a promising party for teenagers with more hormones than they knew what to do with.

Dumbledore had walked through procedures with all of the professors. Their main job was to keep the students safe and ensure no one spiked the punch. Apparently, there had been an incident a few years back where the entire school, including the professors, ended up unconscious on the dance floor.

He advised the professors to keep an eye on overtly public displays of affection, but not to ruin the students' special night. Snape had scoffed at that comment. Harry grinned at him, privately agreeing that school dances were foolish excuses for teenagers to snog behind bushes.

Before he knew it, it was Christmas morning.

Harry woke up in his quarters to a pile of presents at the foot of his bed. He smiled, remembering how Hedwig would always bring him something wonderful during his time at Hogwarts.

There were many sweets from his colleagues. They had clearly picked up on his passion for dessert. Several students had chipped in and bought him a set of Wimborne Wasps robes. He slipped them on over his pants, feeling cozy in the yellow and black cloth.

There was a small basin with a card from Dumbledore inside. A Pensieve! His very own Pensieve was sitting in front of him. He made note to thank Dumbledore profusely.

Finally, there was a thin package at the very bottom of the stack of presents. There was no card. Curious, Harry opened it slowly.

It was a photo of his mother. She looked around age fourteen. She was on a swing set, and kept turning to the camera, grinning. At one point, she leapt off the swing and threw her head back in laughter.

Harry's eyes filled with tears. He had long since gotten past the fact that he was orphaned, but seeing his mother so young, so fresh-faced and happy, brought forth emotions he had nearly forgotten.

Underneath the photo was a letter in spiky handwriting. It read, _I have no use for this photo now. It may better suit your collection._

Harry immediately knew it was a gift from Snape. He was touched. While they had not fought since the trip to Hogsmeade, Snape had not been friendly to Harry. Despite what the letter said, it was most likely very difficult for Snape to part with the photo.

After the feeling of gratitude, Harry felt crushing guilt. He had not gotten a present for Snape.

But what would an angry twenty-three-year-old man want? He looked back down at the photo in his lap. He could never get Snape a gift that measured up to the photo, yet anything else would be pathetic.

Harry spent the next hour thinking through the conundrum that was buying Snape a Christmas gift. He immediately nixed anything snake related, as well as the color green. It was too obvious and cheesy. Snape deserved to receive a present that was simple and from the heart. The only problem was that Snape was the most complicated person he knew and definitely not someone who shared his heart with anyone.

He began getting ready, paying closer attention to his hair than usual. He fixed a blemish on his face, and changed clothes four times before he finally settled on a pair of denims and an old World Cup t-shirt. He figured it was late enough in the morning so that most students were already having snowball fights in the courtyard. He could get away with casual dress.

**

"Professor Hitchens! I have the same tee in green! Brazil still should have won!"

"If Professor Hitchens is allowed to wear _that_ , why can't I wear my skirts?"

"Hey, Professor! Nice denims!"

Harry kept his head ducked down as he passed the seventh year students. His ears burned and he knew his face was bright red. He had half a mind to turn around and change, but he figured the seventh year students would be even more amused. The NEWT students, especially those already of age, saw Harry more as a peer than a teacher. He supposed it would be difficult to take someone only five years older than them seriously, especially since they knew very little about him.

He picked up his stride, making sure to fully button his robes before entering the Great Hall.

Aurora pushed out the seat next to her and gave Harry a curious look. "Why were the Gryffindor seventh years giving you grief?"

Harry revealed what was underneath his robes. "I look like an idiot."

She threw her head back and cackled. Once she got a hold of herself, she took a breath. "Of course you do. But Harry, your chest is making that tee do dangerous things. Perhaps you should have worn something like that on your dates. Then, maybe they would have wanted to take you home with them."

Harry flicked her ear. Hard. "Have you forgotten that it was _me_ not interested in _them_?"

"Perhaps they would have tried harder if they had seen that treasure trail." Aurora licked her lips and giggled.

"Don't be daft, Aurora."

"Wow, Harry, why are you so cranky this morning? It's Christmas!"

Harry softened into his chair. "I got a present from someone, but I didn't give them one. It was a very nice present, and I can't figure out what to do."

"Is that it? I'm sure we can figure something out. Who bought the present? What was the present"

Harry bit his lip. "I'd rather not say who it was from."

Aurora's jaw dropped. "Is it a _man_? A suitor, perhaps?"

Harry felt his cheeks grow heated. "No, it isn't like that. I just don't want to seem like a jerk. Aurora, you are a wonderful friend, but I don't think you should help me get this present. It needs to be between just the two of us."

She bit the inside of her cheek and pursed her lips. "Fine. But Harry, you had better come help me with my hair tonight. I plan to take full advantage of the fact that I have a gay friend."

Harry held out his hand. "Deal."

He watched her leave as he chewed on a piece of toast. She greeted the seventh years and promptly confiscated a bottle of gin under one of the students' robes, winking at Harry as she walked away.

Harry wished that his friendship with Snape was as easy as his friendship with Aurora. Then again, it wouldn't be Snape if the man didn't drive Harry up the wall.

Just then, Flitwick sat next to him, wishing him a happy Christmas. Harry pushed his thoughts of Snape away and decided that a present idea would eventually come to him.

**

The entire day had passed and Harry still had no idea what to give to Snape. He scolded several fifth year students who had been making fun of a fourth year's pimples, held a snowman-making contest, showed several groups of students the proper way to perform a Warming Charm, and consulted Aurora and Septima on several hair and makeup options.

Harry wore form-fitting black dress robes with gold trim. Underneath his robes were black slacks and a white dress shirt. He decided to trim his hair a bit so it was just level with his shoulders. He was finally at the doors of the Great Hall, his heart pounding. He avoided all Ministry events like the plague. They were filled with insincere niceties and unpleasant small talk, not to mention the dancing itself. Since most of his exploits took place in pubs and alleyways, he didn't feel as though he could meet many blokes at formals—at least, not the kind he was looking for.

He grinned as he remembered one particular exception: a bartender at the Founders’ Day Ball several years earlier.

"Harry, you look smashing!"

"It's a shame you have us as a date and not a bloke of your own."

Septima and Aurora linked their arms with his and the trio stepped through the doorway.

The Great Hall was decorated with red and green colors. Christmas trees twenty feet tall towered over the corners, with oversized gift boxes underneath them. The House tables had been replaced with a dozen circular ones. Delicious heaping portions of food sat in the middle of the tables. There was an enormous dance floor at the far end of the room. Students in dress robes were laughing and dancing, some in pairs, others in groups. A band Harry had never heard of was playing pop music.

"This isn't exactly my ideal Saturday night, but the food looks really good!" Harry had to yell in order for Septima and Aurora to hear him.

Septima laughed. "Is all you think about food?"

Harry felt a pang as he thought of Ron, who would be even more enticed by the smell of the honey-baked ham at the tables. He tried to laugh it off and changed the subject. "Is there a staff table, or will we be mingling with the students tonight?"

"I imagine we'll sit with the students as needed. We'll be taking turns monitoring the grounds to keep an eye out for any rule-breakers." Septima nodded to Minerva, who was already dragging a Gryffindor out of the Great Hall by the scruff of his neck, a bottle of Firewhisky in her hand.

"For now, let's dance!" Aurora dragged the two out to the dance floor.

They danced for a good half hour, making students and each other laugh as they showed off their dancing skills, or rather, lack of them.

For a moment, Harry completely forgot that he was in an alternate dimension and in a different time with no opportunity to get back home. He enjoyed the carefree feeling it gave him. Hogwarts had always been home, even if this wasn't the Hogwarts he had once known.

"Professor Hitchens, it looks as though you are fitting in quite nicely!"

Harry looked behind him. Dumbledore stood nearby, chuckling as Aurora shimmied to the floor.

He stopped dancing and walked over to Dumbledore. "Good evening, Headmaster! This ball is very nice!"

"Thank you, Harry, but it was all Hagrid and Filius who did the decorating. I simply showed up."

Harry mostly avoided Hagrid—not because he didn't want to see him, but he couldn't bear being reminded of the world he left.

It was not surprising that Dumbledore found Harry fascinating. He clearly wanted to ask Harry endless amounts of questions, but was holding himself back. Despite the fact that they were in a different dimension and there was no concern about a paradox, Harry was still reluctant to try and change anything.

Dumbledore sat down at one of the tables with Harry and began tearing away at a dinner roll. He offered one to Harry, who took it.

"I see you're doing well at Hogwarts, Harry."

He nodded. "I haven't held a steady job this long in a while."

"Was that by choice?"

Harry chose to swallow his bread first, giving him time to think. "I haven't found something I'm passionate about yet. I've mostly enjoyed all of the jobs I've had before, but I would not make them into careers."

"How do you feel about taking over all of the Defense classes next year? Lydia didn't even want to attend the Yule Ball, let alone teach classes."

Harry glanced around. "Is she here?"

Dumbledore waved his hand. "I let her take a leave of absence over the holidays. Perhaps a break will rejuvenate her so she will last through the end of the school year."

"Headmaster—do you really think I could teach full time? Am I ready for something like that?"

"Harry, it is evident that you have a lot of experience in teaching, as well as Defense Against the Dark Arts. You would be perfect for the position."

Harry frowned. "Can I think about this? I'm really flattered, but this is an enormous commitment."

"My boy, I wouldn't expect for you to make this decision on Christmas, especially after several drinks!"

"I'll think on it, then. By the way, Headmaster, thank you for the Pensieve! I'm sure I will be needing it."

"Do call me Albus. I'm glad you liked the gift. I figured you might need somewhere to sort your thoughts, considering only a few people know about them."

Harry glanced down. "Not to mention, one of them still won't talk to me."

Dumbledore filled a goblet with butterbeer and took a long drink. "Ah, young Severus. I've noticed he has warmed up to you considerably."

Harry laughed. "I would describe it more as not _as_ volatile. He's indifferent to me now."

"Since the war, that would be considered downright pleasant in his book."

Harry looked around the room. "Speaking of Snape, is he here? I'm sure if Lydia got permission to leave, he would have asked as well."

Dumbledore smiled. "I expected him to ask, but he didn't. Perhaps he knew what my answer would be. Either way, he volunteered to patrol the greenhouses. That is a spot where students commonly visit to express themselves to each other."

Harry shuddered at the wording, and put down the rest of his dinner roll. Despite the fact that he quite enjoyed expressing himself with other men, he didn't want to think about his students in that light. Still, maybe he could go thank Snape for the present that he could never measure up to. "I think I'm going to get some air outside. With any luck, it might be snowing." 

Dumbledore gave Harry a few pats on the back and went to go speak with several Ministry wizards Harry had never seen before.

The blast of cold air hit Harry with a gasp. Despite the fact that the Yule Ball was more inviting than the outside, he figured he could use a walk. He cast a quick Warming Charm on his fingers, bundled himself in his robes, and walked across the grounds to the greenhouses.

Before he had even reached Greenhouse Two, he was pressed against the side of the glass, a wand in his face. He whipped out his wand and shoved his attacker.

"Oh, it's you."

Harry took in a relieved breath and stared at Snape. "Is that how you were planning on treating trespassing students, or were you just pretending not to know it was me?"

Snape paused for a moment, a sour look on his face. "I suppose you'll never know."

He turned and began walking the opposite direction.

Harry sighed in frustration. "Snape! I was looking for you!"

Snape stopped walking but did not turn. Harry jogged between Greenhouses One and Two and caught up with him. "I wanted to thank you for the present you gave me. I've never seen that one before."

Again, Snape did not acknowledge Harry had spoken. He simply put his wand back in its holster. Harry supposed that this was a good sign, that Snape did not plan on attacking him—again.

"Since I didn't know my parents, anything I can get—painful or not to learn—is worth it. You knew my Aunt Petunia. Imagine the type of bloke she'd marry and the son they'd raise. Knowing details about my parents' lives is the best gift anyone can give me. I've spent all day trying to figure out how to repay the favor."

Snape muttered something, but Harry couldn't hear him.

"What did you say?"

"I said, it was a _gift_ , Potter. They don't need to be returned."

"Oh."

They stood in silence. Harry felt more awkward than he had ever felt when Snape was insulting him. He stepped a little closer to Snape. If only Snape would look at him! Perhaps then, they could have an actual conversation. All he wanted was something to show for their newfound truce.

"I'm not like my father."

Snape finally glanced up, but didn't look directly at Harry. "I've noticed."

Harry's heart stopped. He wasn't sure how exactly it happened, but the next thing he knew, he and Snape were kissing.

**

The next morning, Harry woke up in his own bed, reluctant to get out of it. He had no clue how he managed to make it from the greenhouses to his own quarters after what had happened.

He could still feel Snape's lips on his, the way his hair brushed against Harry's cheek, how grounding kissing Snape felt. Harry still felt the grip of Snape's fingers around his hips, the mind-melting passion they created with a short kiss.

Just as Harry had tried to deepen it, Snape had pulled away, gave him some excuse about why he had to leave, and walked away. Harry had been so thrown off by their kiss, he had let Snape leave. He walked numbly back to the Great Hall and watched the students dance. By midnight, he rose and left the ball.

He mentally kicked himself for not going after Snape. While it had not been expected, he was quickly realizing that he wanted Snape to be a part of his life. Somehow. Then again, Harry remembered how poorly things had turned out other times he tried to talk to Snape when he left. Perhaps it was best if they left it alone.

Harry rolled over and covered his face with his blanket. When Dumbledore had asked him to befriend Snape, he figured this was not what he had in mind.

He wasn't sure how to approach Snape, either. Would Snape be friendly? Elusive? Aggressive? The last time he had feelings for someone, it was Ginny, and they had a very honest relationship. They were able to discuss their problems—especially the big, gay one—and stay friends even after their relationship ended. Harry had a feeling that Snape wasn't similar to Ginny in his willingness to discuss his feelings.

A knock sounded at his door. Harry took off his blanket, threw on a t-shirt, and stood to answer the door. Another knock came, then another. If a knock could sound irritated, this one definitely did. "I'm coming! Hold on a moment!"

He pulled open the door and gaped at the person standing in front of him. It was Snape.

After several moments of silence, Snape crossed his arms and glared at Harry. "Close your mouth, Potter. You look like a fish."

Harry was thrown out of his shock. He combed his hair through his fingers and held the door open for Snape. "Would you like to come in?"

Snape crinkled his nose. "I don't think that will be necessary."

Harry tried to seem nonchalant. "There are loads of mischievous Gryffindors out and about these halls. If you're alright with possibly running into one, I suppose it is alright to talk out here."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Snape pushed Harry aside and strode into the room. "Fine."

Harry silently cheered and turned around, closing the door behind him. He motioned for Snape to sit on a cushy maroon chair as he sat opposite on a wicker rocking chair.

"What brings you to this side of the castle this morning?"

Snape suddenly became very interested in his fingernails. He inspected a potions stain on his left thumb, and rubbed at it.

Harry leaned forward. "Did you really come here to ignore me?"

"Do you have any Firewhisky?"

That was unexpected, especially since it was breakfast time. "I don't think so. I do have some mulberry wine, though."

"That will be unnecessary. What about tea?"

Harry grinned. "Every good Englishman has tea. Would you like a loose leaf Assam?"

"Please."

As Harry prepared the tea, he was still at loss for why Snape would show up at his door. It clearly had something to do with their kiss, but he still had no clue whether Snape took it as a positive or negative interaction. He decided silence was better than yelling and assembled the tea for them.

"Would you like milk or sugar?"

"A dash of milk."

Harry brought the tea to Snape, who took a sip immediately. Harry sat back down with his tea—sugar, no milk—and waited for Snape to speak.

He wasn't sure what Snape was waiting for. Snape had come to see _him_ , step inside, drink Harry's tea, and sit on his chair. And yet, he remained silent and glowered at Harry as though he had been the one bothering Snape. It wasn't up to him to take the initiative to see what Snape wanted.

The whole thing was painfully awkward.

Harry fidgeted in his seat. Snape seemed amused as he took another sip of his tea. Harry decided to use a mantra to distract him from the silence. He would not be the first to speak, he would not be the first to speak, he would not—

"Why are you here?"

Harry internally scolded himself as Snape's lips curled into an amused smile. He noted that, while it was unusual, he quite liked seeing a smile on Snape's face and would later put the memory in his Pensieve.

Snape put his tea down onto the side table next to the chair and placed his hands in his lap. "It is important that you know I do not approve of relationships or commitment or anything resembling emotional attachments or love."

"Okay."

"I don't want you to get any notions of flowers, chocolates, or spooning. Last night was a foolish kiss and nothing more. It meant nothing."

"Okay."

"Because you are not a complete buffoon, you should understand this completely and agree."

Harry rolled his eyes and put his hand to his heart. "I'm touched you would say such kind things about me."

Snape ignored the comment, and continued talking. "It is essential that you recognize we are both professionals and should behave as such. Get your physical needs from strangers in bars, or if you want a relationship, a wanted advert. Don't come see me for any of that."

Harry pursed his lips. Talking to Snape was more complicated than the maze during the Triwizard Tournament. He had to navigate his way through all of the words Snape said to try and get at what he wanted. The problem was, Harry wasn't sure what he wanted.

Snape seemed content waiting for an answer. He continued drinking his tea and watched Harry closely.

Finally, Harry nodded. "That's alright. I was actually hoping you felt that way."

"Were you?" Snape put down his teacup and looked at him with interest.

"I'm sure you also know I'm someone who prefers one-night stands compared to relationships. Also, I completely agree. Since we work together, whatever is between us should be strictly platonic."

Snape had a drink of his tea instead of answering. After a moment, he responded. "I'm glad we both agree."

"I think this is for the best."

They stared at each other, Harry silently daring Snape to say something else. Instead, Snape finished his tea and placed the empty cup on the coffee table and leaned back into the chair.

"Er—Snape? Is there something else you need?"

He glanced at Harry. Snape's stares were so intense, part of Harry missed the days when Snape wouldn't make eye contact with him. Looking Severus Snape directly in the eye made it feel as though he could see every last thought or secret Harry ever had.

"You mentioned something a few months ago. I'd like to revisit that conversation."

Harry shrugged. "There aren't many pleasant things we've talked about."

Snape nodded. "You are from the future."

"You are correct." Harry pulled his feet up on the cushion with him, making himself more comfortable.

"Am I a worthy teacher?"

Out of all the questions Snape could have asked him about the future, Harry had not expected that one. "What do you mean?"

Snape seemed irritated by Harry's confusion. "You said we hated each other and that I was rather unpleasant towards everyone, but nothing of my teaching quality. Do I become a successful professor?"

Harry paused. "It was always clear you would rather be teaching Defense rather than Potions. You were always passionate about Potions, though. Looking at it as objectively as I can, I think you did your job well, but it wasn't necessary to be as harsh as you were to everyone but your own House."

"Sometimes, being harsh is the only way to gain respect."

"I don't think you were respected, though. You were feared." Harry held up his arms in defense, waiting for Snape to go off on him.

He didn't. Instead, Snape pointed at Harry. "That. That, right there. What you just did. You're still afraid of me, aren't you? Even after you finished school, after you arrived here."

Harry put his hands down and raised his eyebrows at Snape. "How many times have you attacked me since I've been here?"

Snape seemed to accept that answer.

"Look, we have a very long history of hating each other. I'd like to think we both got past that once I grew up a bit."

"How long do I stay at Hogwarts?"

Harry was unsure how to answer this without giving away a rather important detail. He figured he should keep it simple. "Through my school years."

"And after?"

"Do you want the truth?"

"Yes."

Harry tried to come up with the right way to explain it. Memories of the Battle of Hogwarts hit him as though he had just experienced them—seeing Remus and Tonks lying in the Great Hall motionless, watching Neville chop off Nagini's head, and the cold words of Voldemort while Snape was being murdered. _"I regret it."_

"There was an incident. You—you didn't make it."

Snape took in a shallow breath. "You mean to say I died? How?"

"Snape, you know I can't tell you everything. If I do, something may go wrong."

Snape stood, glaring down at Harry. "Excuse me for wanting to know how I died! Never mind the fact that if I know, perhaps I could stop it and not die!"

Harry rose as well. Despite the fact that they were the same age, Snape still had a full six inches of height on him. "You want to know how you died? I have to think about it every day! I promise you, it's worse knowing."

Snape snorted. "That's why you pity me, isn't it? You feel bad for the fact that I died, and you want to make it up to me now."

Harry threw his arms in the air and raised his voice. "Yes! You died trying to protect _me_! Even now, I don't understand how I can possibly repay you for all of the things you did to help me. It doesn't even matter _why_ ; you still were always looking out for my sake, and I was a complete arse to you."

Whatever it was Snape expected Harry to say, it wasn't that. He turned around, picked up his teacup, and brought it to the sink. It surprised Harry to see that he ran the faucet and scrubbed the cup with the sponge on the counter.

It didn't help the situation that Snape looked fantastic from the back. Harry quickly shook himself out of that mindset and approached Snape, sitting on the counter across from him.

"You don't need to play house-elf to ignore me. You can always leave."

"Do you not want me here?" Snape took a tea towel from the oven door and began wiping down the cup.

"I never said that. I just thought you didn't want to be here."

"If I didn't want to be here, I would leave as you suggested."

Harry smiled and watched Snape tend to the rest of his dishes. He had no idea why his revelation calmed Snape and why he was washing Harry's dishes, but for now, he was content with avoiding another argument.

**

Through the holidays and the first few weeks into the start of the new term, things between Harry and Snape stayed the same. Snape would stop by Harry's quarters or meet him in the library or staff room. They typically wouldn't speak much to each other, though there was an occasional "Hello," or "Could I borrow that book?" Their truce had become nearly friendly. Perhaps it was friendly for Snape, as Harry's colleagues began asking questions.

Septima noticed Harry give Snape the tomatoes from his omelette and gave him a curious glance. Harry had explained that he didn't like them and Snape did. Septima replied that the tomatoes were not the confusing part.

Slughorn asked him if Harry was helping Snape in his teaching, as Snape's students seemed more excited to go to class. Harry had simply shrugged.

Even Dumbledore—Harry would never be able to call him Albus—was taking note of Snape's more positive energy. Snape had brewed a batch of Pepperup Potion for Madam Pomfrey after learning flu season was upon them. Dumbledore had given Harry a wink after thanking Snape during a staff meeting.

Harry's students continued to grow and develop a rapport with him. His Gryffindor second year class had already finished the material Lydia had left him, so he decided to teach them some basic dueling steps. Emma Dawlish was a fast learner and had nearly Disarmed Harry once. It surprised him that it was her older brother who became an Auror and not her.

He still couldn't decide if he wanted to stay full time as a professor at Hogwarts next year. It was clear there was no going back to his own world, but even though he enjoyed the work, he couldn't tell if teaching was what he really wanted.

Three weeks had passed since the kiss between him and Snape, and with the amount of time they spent together, Harry was constantly aroused. Harry had a feeling that Snape knew and would intentionally find a reason to touch him to make him even less comfortable.

Late one night in the library, Harry found Snape sitting in his usual spot. He slid into the chair beside him and pulled out a stack of essays.

"Do you need something?"

This was a customary greeting of Snape's. Harry had grown to interpret it to mean that Snape was busy and didn't want to start a conversation.

Harry shrugged. "I just needed to get out of my room for a bit. I figured it would just be you and the Ravenclaws this late in the evening."

Snape rolled his eyes at the students across the room huddled around an enormous book. "You aren't wrong."

Harry turned and faced Snape. They were so close, it wouldn't take much for either of them to close their distance and kiss. He admired Snape's lips, the way they pursed as he glared at Harry, how kissable they were.

"What are you staring at?"

He flushed, and looked down. "Sorry."

Snape shifted his legs, brushing against Harry's knee. Harry jumped, dropping his quill to the ground.

"Here, let me –"

They bumped heads. Harry mentally kicked himself and tried to will away the arousal pooling in his groin. "Sorry."

"Are you afraid of me?" Snape's expression seemed to be halfway between amused and frustrated.

"What? No." Harry spoke quickly and tried to seem nonchalant.

"You seem even more moronic than usual."

Harry smiled. "Do you pay attention to my moron levels?"

Snape flushed. "You're so obvious, it doesn't take much effort."

They were silent for a few moments. Harry felt Snape's leg pressing into his. He and Snape stared at each other, taking in deep breaths. He wasn't sure about Snape, but all Harry could think about was pinning Snape to the table and snogging him senseless. Finally, Harry licked his lips, cutting the frozen moment between them.

"I should probably go." Harry gathered his untouched essays.

Snape fixed his eyes on Harry. "You just got here."

"Right."

Harry stood to leave, but Snape pulled him back down to his seat. "I have something to tell you."

His heart thudded in his chest. "What?" Harry's voice was barely above a whisper.

Snape clasped his hands and fidgeted with his fingers. "I got rid of all of the medications."

"The pills you were using the night we—"

He nodded. "I thought you would want to know."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. It had been a while since Snape had shared anything of a personal nature with him. "I'm glad."

"I don't need them anymore."

"You needed them before?"

"I thought I did."

Harry patted Snape on the shoulder. "Thanks for trusting me."

"It isn't important."

Snape turned to look at where Harry's hand rested. Harry realized he was making circles on Snape's shoulder with his thumb and yanked his hand away.

"Er —I was thinking about going up to Hogsmeade this weekend."

Snape nodded slowly. "I see."

"It's been a while since—"

"I get it, Hitchens."

"Would you like to come with me?"

"I'm sure I'd ruin your conquest."

Harry shrugged. "I suppose. We could try together. I've never had friends with the same… er—interests—as me."

"Friends?"

Shit. "Well, isn't that what we are? Friends?"

Snape shrugged. "Either way, our recreational activities should be done separately."

"Okay. I just thought it could be something fun for us to do outside of reading and marking and drinking tea."

"You and I clearly have different ideas of what constitutes fun."

Snape suddenly seemed to be rather testy, so Harry let the matter drop. They got back to work at the table, each of them taking turns to stop and stare at the other, never recognizing that perhaps both of them wanted more.

**

That weekend, Harry decided to pay a visit to the Hog's Head. Since they had no commitment to each other, and had agreed to keep things between them professional, Harry owed Snape nothing. Hell, Snape had even encouraged him to do so. "By all means, enjoy yourself," were his exact words.

There was nothing to feel guilty about.

Harry made his way through the crowded pub. Clearly, he wasn't the only one out for a bit of fun that night.

He sat at the bar and watched Aberforth Dumbledore pass out liquor to his patrons. He wondered how Aberforth would react if Harry told him who he was.

"Buy you a drink?"

Harry turned to see a rather fit blond. For some reason, he didn't find himself interested in the other man. "No thanks."

The other man shrugged. "If you change your mind, I'll be at that table across the room."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Harry swiveled his stool back around, his back facing the majority of the other people in the bar. He motioned to Aberforth and ordered a gin and tonic.

Several other men and one woman approached him, but he turned them all down. He still couldn't place the feeling. He was so bottled up with sexual frustration, he was ready to pop. Yet, when the opportunity arose, he couldn't bring himself to go through with it.

Then, it hit him like a punch to the gut. He downed the rest of his drink and motioned for another.

Harry banged on the bartop, causing several patrons to stare. He _liked_ Snape. There was no other explanation. He was completely and utterly fucked. It wasn't as though he didn't recognize there was sexual attraction, but that wouldn't have him turning down all of the men in the Hog's Head. He wanted a relationship. The sexual tension between the two of them was far more than the need to shag. "Shit."

"Are you alright?"

There was a man close to his age standing next to him.

"I'm fine. Are you gay?"

The man seemed taken aback by the question. "I'm not _gay_ , I just—"

"Would you like to fuck me?"

"Yes."

"Let's get out of here, then."

Harry finished his second drink before Aberforth had barely placed it in front of him. He threw some Galleons on the table and dragged the man out of the bar.

Once they made it outside, Harry pulled his conquest to an alleyway and gave him a fierce snog. The other man seemed content to oblige and his fingers traveled to Harry's belt, tugging on the belt loops.

Even though he had been with dozens of strangers, this was the first time it felt wrong. This man had sandy brown hair and large lips, and was extremely muscular. Harry hated the feeling, yet he needed to do this. To prove to himself he didn't have a crush. To prove to Snape he wasn't smitten.

That bloody bastard. Harry had no idea that Snape could bother him even more than in his childhood. He didn't realize that unrequited attraction felt worse than being insulted for his family and his big head. He wanted to sing from joy and cry in anger at the same time.

What infuriated him the most was that Harry would never know how Snape felt about him. The man kept his emotions and thoughts sealed inside himself. He would rather be miserable than open up to another person. Even Dumbledore only got a small glimpse of the man Snape was.

Harry suddenly realized he was being pressed up against a freezing cold brick wall. He turned around to face the wall and closed his eyes as he enjoyed hot kisses trailing up his neck and to his ear. He imagined Snape was there, nibbling at his ear, palming Harry's cock through his trousers, pressing his own against Harry's arse. He moaned, suddenly completely aroused.

If he closed his eyes, perhaps he could get through this.

**

"If you want, I could give you my Floo. We could get together again."

Harry shook his head as he pulled up his trousers. "I try not to see men I meet in bars more than once."

The man didn't seem offended by the comment. "Well, I'm Mark. If you decide you want to make an exception, I live in the next town over."

"Thanks... Mark."

He waited for the man he now knew as Mark to leave, then he leaned against the wall again, sitting on the pavement. It was freezing but he couldn't bring himself to care.

He liked Snape. _Snape_. Not only was he attracted to him, but he wanted to be with the greasy git who tormented him for years. The arsehole who took no pity on Sirius his fifth year. The bastard who came back to Voldemort as a spy for the Order.

The jerk who grew up as friends with his mother. The ponce who tried to help Harry learn Occlumency, but he was too selfish to try himself. The dick who had the audacity to save his life and gave up his own for Harry's safety.

The utterly brilliant and amazing man whose Patronus complemented his own.

When Harry looked at it in that light, he supposed it made sense. In this timeline, he and Snape had a chance to try and start over. Harry was more mature and understood why Snape acted the way he did. He couldn't deny the fact that they got on much better as adults. Hell, Harry even found Snape funny on occasion.

"Fuck."

"Hitchens?"

Harry turned his head and squinted at the person near the entrance to the Hog's Head. His eyes widened.

There was Snape, looking completely snoggable in a casual set of robes. His hair was down, falling into his eyes on one side. Snape looked as though he had been rushing somewhere, as his breathing was fast-paced.

Harry stood and stepped towards Snape.

"What were you doing over there?"

He decided to try and seem as nonchalant as possible. "Whatever people do in dark alleyways."

"You were with someone."

"I think his name was Mark."

Harry stared straight into Snape's eyes, opening up his mind for Snape to read his thoughts. That he really wanted Snape. That Snape just needed to speak up, and Harry would be his.

It didn't seem as though Snape would take the bait. His face clouded over, but showed little emotion. Harry wasn't surprised, but he wished that it were different, that Snape would pluck up some courage.

Or perhaps Snape didn't really want him. Harry supposed that was the other option. Yet, Snape had come to Hogsmeade, hadn't he? It wasn't typical of Snape to go anywhere public without a nicer set of robes. Had he come to look for Harry?

Snape finally spoke. "Was he any good?"

Harry's heart sank. "He knew what he was doing at least. He was an excellent snogger." He paused. "What were you doing up here?"

Snape shrugged his shoulders and, again, hid the emotion from his face. "I haven't been out in a while."

"Would you like some company?"

"I never want company."

"Can I come along?"

"I thought we had this conversation earlier this week."

"I won't get in your way, I promise."

Snape chewed on the inside of his cheek. "If you have nothing better to do. It sounds like you already took care of your own needs."

"I could try and help you bag a bloke."

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Do you doubt my ability to find a man?"

"No, but it doesn't hurt to have the best-looking man in the bar hitting on you to drum up a little competition. With my help, you might be able to find more than one."

"That's an interesting offer. Do you really think you're the best-looking bloke in the bar?"

Harry pulled his shoulders back and gave a dazzling smile. "I can when I want to be. Go inside, and I'll come by to flirt with you. Once someone else shows and you want him, I'll go."

Snape walked in first and took a seat at the bar. Once he was settled in, Harry walked back inside the Hog's Head and approached Snape. He slid in beside Snape and another patron sitting on the stools and placed one hand on the bar and the other on Snape's shoulder.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Snape looked Harry up and down and removed Harry's hand from his shoulder. "I just walked in. Are you really that desperate for a shag?"

Harry glared daggers at Snape. He would never make anything easy. "I know I should at least try something when the best-looking bloke I've ever seen walks into the same bar."

"If you truly feel the need to purchase liquor for me, I suppose I wouldn't deny the offer."

Harry motioned to Aberforth, praying that he wouldn't acknowledge that he was back. He ordered two pints of ale and then turned back to Snape. "Would you mind moving over in your seat? There aren't any more stools."

Snape leaned in close to Harry and spoke in a low voice. "Fucking hell, Potter, is this really your seduction technique?"

Harry sighed. "Hitchens. And yes, asking them to share a bar stool opens up several options."

He sat down right beside Snape, practically pushing him off the stool. It was easier playing this character rather than himself.

"This way, I can get closer to you than if I had my own seat. Since I'm sitting against you, I can tell if you're fit. I have a lot more freedom to feel your body if I'd like—and if you'd like."

Harry ran a finger down Snape's thigh underneath the bar. Snape instantly tensed and Harry tried to look innocent, even though he knew his face was burning red. Snape was so warm, and smelled of potions spices. All Harry wanted to do was close the distance between them and drown in the essence of Snape.

Snape slapped Harry's hand away. "Stop it, Hitchens."

Harry raised his voice. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Harry Hitchens, a trained Hit Wizard. What's your name?"

"Well, _Harry_ , I'm Marcus, a woodworker in Knockturn Alley."

Goosebumps ran up his arms at the use of Harry's given name, but he tried to ignore it. He brushed his foot against Snape's ankle, eager to touch more of his body. "How interesting. Do you enjoy using your hands?" He wagged his eyebrows.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Are you joking? Is this how you manage to find one-offs?"

Harry smirked. "Usually, they come to me. But if I want someone, I can be very persuasive."

Snape stared at him for a moment before he finally responded. "This was a bad idea. You should leave."

Harry frowned. "What's wrong?"

Snape looked away and didn't respond.

A wave of guilt washed over Harry. He gently placed his hand on Snape's; he didn't move it away. "I'm sorry."

Snape didn't respond.

"I can go."

Harry stood up and turned around, wishing he could cast a charm to make himself disappear from the face of the Earth. Despite knowing how he felt about Snape, he still had no clue if Snape actually wanted him back. He had gone too far.

Snape was not someone easily persuaded. In fact, it was clear that Snape could not be convinced of anything. He did what he wanted, nothing more, nothing less.

Despite what he’d said, Harry stayed in the bar, casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, and watched another man approach Snape. He watched the other man flirt and touch Snape's arms. He watched as the other man made Snape smirk and stand up. They moved to another corner of the pub, leaning against the wall.

Harry was impressed by Snape's seduction techniques, despite the jealousy burning through him. While Harry was far more forward with the men he chased, Snape was coy, or rather as coy as Severus Snape could be. Harry imagined that he was the other man against the wall, chatting up Snape with a glass of whiskey in his hand, laughing and seducing him.

Eventually the man went to the loo and Snape headed towards the exit. He had a short window of time to speak with Snape. Harry followed Snape out through the doors. He was hit again with a blast of cold, but knew he had to speak with Snape before he left with the other man.

Before Harry had even closed the door, a pair of hands spun Harry around. He tried to smile. It wouldn't be Snape if Harry didn't have a wand in his face at least once a week.

"Why didn't you leave when I asked you to?" Snape's voice seemed to stay even, but briefly quivered.

Harry decided being honest was the best option. "You should be coming back with me, not him."

Snape shoved him away. He should have expected that reaction. Harry grimaced and rubbed his shoulder. "You don't agree with me?"

"Who are you to tell me how I should feel?"

Harry's voice rose as he glared at Snape. "Oh. I thought it was that you were too afraid to try to be with someone you actually liked."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Why do you have to be so difficult?" Snape pushed Harry again.

Harry grasped Snape's wrists. "Snape, I'm trying to tell you that I fancy you! Why do _you_ have to be so difficult?"

Snape yanked his hands away from Harry, who braced himself for another act of physical violence. Instead, he was pulled into a searing kiss.

Harry embraced Snape and flattened their chests together. Snape deepened the kiss and dug his fingers into the back of Harry's head. Harry shut his eyes, blinded by the passion, knowing nothing but Snape's lips and tongue.

Seconds or hours could have passed between the time the kiss started and when it ended. When Snape finally pulled away with a gentle closing of his mouth, Harry was completely breathless. They held each other silently, warming themselves in the freezing cold. Once Harry finally found his voice, he spoke. "Why did you come to Hogsmeade tonight?"

Snape dipped his head, pressing against Harry's forehead. "I don't need to answer that question. You already know the answer."

"You're not angry about... what's his name... Mark?"

Snape tensed but didn't pull away. "I have no right to be angry."

Harry pulled away and looked around. "Weren't you going to go with someone? The wizard you were talking to after I left the bar?"

Snape's response was a scoff. "I Confunded him when I realized you were watching me."

A smile formed on Harry's lips. "You knew I'd come after you, didn't you?"

"Don't get too sentimental. Potter, I still don't do relationships. Nothing has changed from our previous conversation." Snape motioned for them to begin walking back through the village.

Harry was surprised that Snape wanted to walk instead of Apparate but refrained from mentioning it. "Hasn't it, though? That kiss—both kisses—they meant something."

It was silent for several minutes. Harry could hear only the sound of the snow crunching below their shoes. Finally, Snape spoke. "You misunderstand me, Potter. I don't do relationships."

"You've said that already." This was not turning out how Harry wanted.

Snape stopped and turned to Harry, frustration seeping across his face. "Fucking hell, do you need me to say it out loud? I've never been in a real relationship. It's only ever been sex."

Harry's face softened, but he still wasn't sure about what was next. "What about all of that other nonsense that you were talking about? 'Notions of flowers, chocolates, and spooning,' and such?"

"Don't expect that to change. I am still not sentimental."

Harry laughed in relief. "Snape, do you realize I haven't been in a serious relationship with a man? Ever? The last relationship I had was with a woman, and it was terrible. I didn't plan on this. I didn't plan on ever having a relationship. Honestly, it was too difficult to find someone who wouldn't use me for my fame, so I stopped trying."

"Neither of us knows what to do, then."

Harry decided to take a risk and reach for Snape's fingers, lacing them together with his own. Snape's fingers were surprisingly warm, spreading the heat up Harry's arm and flushed his face. "Let's try walking back to Hogwarts like this."


	3. My Feelings for You

**

That night, Harry went to bed on his own. It was late, Harry was tired, and he didn't want to overwhelm Snape. After a gentle kiss, they parted ways in the courtyard.

Even in the mid-morning light, Harry could still feel the tenderness of Snape's kiss. He grinned into his pillow as he imagined what was surely to come with Snape. Still, Harry knew their relationship wouldn't be easy. Neither of them was particularly talented in expressing himself all that well. There was also the fact that Harry had lived his life through 2003. How would he adapt to the time period, especially if he was romantically involved with the man who taught him Potions?

Harry's Floo lit up and he knew someone was trying to come through. He sat up and watched, only slightly embarrassed that he was still in bed late into the morning.

His heart slightly sank when he saw that it was Aurora and Septima and not Snape.

"Harry, where did you go last night? We went to find you, but you weren't on the school grounds." Septima sat down on one of Harry's chairs and looked at him with her arms folded.

Aurora joined her and also looked at Harry with an expectant expression.

Harry climbed out of bed, wrapping himself in his blankets. "Sorry. I went to Hogsmeade last night and didn't get back until late."

"We figured that's where you went."

"Did you have a good time?"

"Did you meet anyone?" Aurora wiggled her eyebrows.

Harry smiled and rubbed at his eyes. He found his glasses and slipped them on. "A gentleman never tells."

"Oh go on, Harry. Since neither of us is having sex, we need to live vicariously through you."

Harry glanced at Septima. "I don't think you'd want to do that. Why were you looking for me last night?"

Septima shook herself and seemed to remember why they had stopped by in the first place. "Dumbledore was looking for you last night. When you didn't come to dinner, we thought we'd see what you were up to."

Harry nodded. "Do you know what it's about?"

Aurora shrugged. "I'm surprised he didn't owl you."

"I suppose I should try and find him."

"He's definitely out and about by now. It _is_ nearly lunchtime."

Harry tried to look sheepish, but couldn't feel guilty. Not after the night before. "I can't have a lie-in every once in a while?"

"Not when you're Harry Hitchens."

He laughed. "Thank you for letting me know Dumbledore was looking for me. I owe you."

Septima smiled. "We will make sure to use that favor soon."

Once they left, Harry busied himself by making tea while he was getting ready. He tried not to wonder what Dumbledore wanted. He hoped he and Snape hadn't been spotted the night before, as he still wasn't sure what it meant for their relationship. Dumbledore asking him questions would be too much.

When he was dressed and his room as clean as it could be, he set off to find Dumbledore.

On the way to the headmaster's office, Harry confiscated several prank sweets that would form spikes when bitten, split up an argument between two fourth year girls about their hair ties, and narrowly escaped several Banishing Charms when a group of practicing Ravenclaws missed their targets.

He spoke the new password to the gargoyle—"Winterfresh"—and walked up the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's door.

Before he even had time to knock, the door opened. "Come in, Harry."

Harry entered and looked around. He smiled at Fawkes, who was cleaning his wing. "Were you looking for me last night?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. There were several matters I wish to discuss with you. First, have a seat. Would you like a biscuit?"

Harry took a chocolate biscuit from a tin on the desk and sat down across from Dumbledore. "What do you need to talk about?"

"First, I was wondering if you had any interest in starting a Dueling Club. Several students have requested you as the instructor. Perhaps you and Professor Snape could work together on this? It seems as though the two of you are on better terms than before Christmas."

Harry nodded, putting all of his energy into not blushing. "Wouldn't Flitwick be better suited for that job? He was a dueling champion when he was younger, wasn't he?"

"Filius has an abundance of NEWT students needing his help at the moment."

"I suppose I could help with it. I'm not sure I could convince Snape to help me, though." Harry willed his mind to close off as much as it could.

"The second matter I wanted to bring up is you."

Harry frowned. "Me?"

"Yes. I met someone at a Ministry convention who has experimented in time travel before. He may be able to get you back to your own time and world."

Harry tried to find words to express himself. Dumbledore met someone who could send him back? He could see his friends again? His heart soared. "That—that's fantastic."

"I hoped you would think that. The man in question currently lives in India, so I will pay him a visit in the coming month and let you know what I find out."

"Thank you, sir. I had given up on getting home."

"Never give up, Harry. There is always another way."

Then it hit Harry. He would have to leave Snape. After months of trying to get Snape to open up, he might leave. What would that do to Snape? Perhaps he would bring it up the next time he saw Snape. He hoped Snape would be happy for him, with the chance to go home.

He realized Dumbledore was waiting for him to refocus. "Was there something else?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands. "I don't want you to think that I'm butting into your personal life, but I want to give you a bit of advice. I wish I’d had someone to tell this to me when I was a boy."

Harry paled. "About what?"

"As I'm sure you know, friendship and loyalty are essential when going through your life. Untrue friends will never help, no matter how many people you surround yourself with. The same should go for romance."

Harry studied Dumbledore but, as always, he was unable to read him. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean, Harry, is that a relationship should be meaningful even when sex is involved." When Harry opened his mouth to speak, Dumbledore raised his hand for him to wait. "I do not mean to overstep my bounds. I just know it can be hard to break that habit once you've started. If you find someone who is worthy of your heart, you should make sure to keep them around."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. It was evident that Dumbledore knew about his trips to Hogsmeade. Perhaps he also knew about him and Snape. He silently thanked Dumbledore for not wanting to have _that_ discussion. "Thank you, sir."

"Harry, how many times must I ask you to call me Albus?"

Harry laughed. "At least once more, I'm sure. Is that all you needed? I suppose I can find Snape and see if he'd like to help me with the Dueling Club."

"That's a fine idea. Maybe you should even convince him to get outside. Despite it being January, it is surprisingly warm outside today."

"I'll try. You understand how Snape is more than anyone."

Harry rose from the chair and went to go find Snape.

>**

Harry first checked the dungeons. Snape had several potions labs there, and would most likely brew his weekend away.

Sure enough, Snape was inside the second room Harry checked. He was bent forward on the counter, his eyes following the movement of liquid from a vial. Harry watched Snape stand up straighter and stir the cauldron in front of him. He tsked and turned back to the clear vial.

Harry knocked and the noise caused Snape to jump. He dropped the vial on the floor, which began smoking.

"Bloody hell."

He approached Snape, taking out his wand. "Here, let me help."

Snape bent down, waving Harry away. "I can clean this myself."

Harry waved his wand, repairing the vial, and held it out. "At least this is fixed, right?"

Snape cleared the remaining liquid off the floor. "It isn't the vial that irritates me."

"I'm sorry. I figured I'd knock, so you didn't attempt to hex me."

"I'd rather hex you, Hitchens. I've been working on this potion for a fortnight."

Harry studied the cauldron, moving closer to Snape. "What does the potion do?"

Snape seemed to take note of Harry's proximity but didn't say anything about it. "It causes the drinker to forget."

"Like a potion version of Obliviate?"

"I suppose you could say that. Other potions similar to this have been brewed before, particularly the Forgetfulness Potion. Nothing has been brewed that is quite as specific as this one. What you broke was the final ingredient."

"I think you've been drinking your potion. You were the one who dropped the vial."

Snape pursed his lips. "Why are you here?"

Harry reached for Snape's hand. "I thought I'd come see you. Unless you've changed your mind."

Snape squeezed Harry's hand. "I haven't."

"Well, since your potion is missing its final ingredient, why don't we do something?"

He finally turned and looked at Harry. He couldn't tell what Snape was thinking, which drove Harry mad. What drove him madder was how incredibly snoggable the other man's lips were.

"I can't just leave my potion. It's fragile."

"What can I do to help?"

"You can squeeze the juice from five Brahmi flowers."

"Excellent. Where can I find it?"

"Southeast Asia."

Harry winced. "Oh."

Snape released Harry's hand and walked towards the supply cabinet. "You're in luck that I purchased a pound of the flowers and still have them in my possession."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.  
"Don't think you're off the hook yet, Hitchens. I plan on exacting more revenge on you later." Snape pulled out a bag of pale pink flowers and walked back to the cauldron.

"I'll be sure to stay on my toes."

Snape took out five flowers and set them on the counter. "Do you know how to properly extract fluid from flowers?"

Harry bit his lip, then finally spoke. "I've never been very good at it. You roll a stone or press a knife to them, right?"

Snape nodded. "You should use a knife for this particular type of flower. Crushing them helps release the juices better."

He retrieved a paring knife from his supply box and gave it to Harry. "Crush the flowers."

"I'm bollocks at preparing potions ingredients. I can never follow the directions correctly. You shouldn't trust me with something so important to your project."

"Here." Snape stepped behind Harry and put the knife in both of their right hands. He guided Harry's left hand to the flowers, putting them right in front of them. Together, they lay the knife flat and pressed. Juice began leaking out from one of the petals.

"Is this alright?"

Snape leaned in closer, his cheek brushing against Harry's ear. "Harder. You can be as firm as you need to be."

Harry tried to ignore his twitching cock and followed Snape's directions. He increased the pressure and, sure enough, the fluid from the flower poured a river down the counter.

"How do we gather it up? Shouldn't we have done this in a container?"

Snape let go of Harry's right hand and reached for his wand. He waved it several times, and the fluid floated in the air. "Do you have that vial you fixed for me?"

Harry retrieved it from his pockets and watched it as the liquid moved slowly into the vial. Snape capped it off and put it down beside the cauldron. He realized Snape was still standing behind him, taking in sharp breaths.

He spun around and crashed their lips together. Harry's heart pounded as he was hoisted onto the counter, locking his legs around Snape's middle, bringing them closer together. Harry moaned into Snape's mouth as he ran his hands up and down his back.

This was more like the kiss they shared at Christmastime: rough, passionate, and needy. They kissed as though it were their last night on the planet, holding onto each other for support.

Harry pulled away, gasping for air. Snape captured Harry's mouth again, causing Harry to let out a giggle. The laugh was short lived, as it was swallowed up with the kiss.

Snape finally ended the kiss, taking a step back and leaned against the stool next to the cauldron.

Harry glanced over to the cauldron. He tried to speak, but he seemed to have forgotten how to make sound come out of his mouth. He tried again, and found himself successful. "Is there anything you need to do?"

Without responding, Snape reached for the vial and uncorked it. He poured the vial into the mixture, watching as it began to bubble. "Just that. Now, it needs to simmer for another week. I can bottle it at the full moon."

"I need to tell you something."

Snape looked back at Harry, sat down on the stool, and placed his hands in his lap.

"There was one year where I did really well in Potions. My sixth year. I didn't realize I’d made it into the NEWT level, so I had to borrow a spare copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ from one of the supply bins. It was heavily marked up, but the potions turned out better than the instructions from the book. I received an O in the class." Harry glanced down at his hands. "It belonged to the Half-Blood Prince."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Harry picked up his head and looked at Snape. "You asked several weeks ago if you became a good professor. I learned best from you, with your patient guiding hand. You brought out the best in me, even if some of the spells in there weren't the safest."

Snape scoffed. "I was convinced I could be better than everyone."

"You were. I was. I outperformed everyone in class. I just thought you should know that even though I nearly failed your class every year, you were still the best teacher I ever had, even if it was your instructions in a book."

Snape stared at Harry without responding. Harry couldn't hold his gaze, and shuffled his feet on top of the counter instead. "I created a person behind the Half-Blood Prince. He was charming and fit and, while he was the perfect student, he didn't mind bending the rules every now and then. Back then, I wasn't sure of my sexuality, but I think I fancied the Prince a bit. It came as a shock to me that it turned out to be you."

"You're so sentimental."

Harry slid off the counter and gave Snape his hand. "You don't mind it nearly as much as you pretend you do. Come on, let's go for a walk."

**

"Dumbledore asked me to lead a Dueling Club this term."

Harry was sitting next to Snape against a tree near the Forbidden Forest. He imagined they would look strange if anyone saw them as they passed by: two Hogwarts professors spending time together just outside of Hogwarts grounds, sitting together too close to be just friends.

"Dumbledore does seem to favor you."

Harry rolled his eyes and elbowed Snape in the side. "That's not true. What _is_ true is that he wants you to co-lead it with me."

"He thinks it safe to have me turning my wand on children?"

"See? Dumbledore trusts you."

Snape stretched his legs out further. "Why would I want to do that?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe he wants you to feel more welcome here. You have to admit, you aren't very oncoming to any of the students."

"I know that." Snape watched a bird fly overhead and didn't say anything else.

"Is that a yes? Will you help me?"

"It seems as though you'll talk your way over any obstacle I throw in your way."

Harry gave Snape a quick kiss, and then blushed. "Dumbledore wanted to talk to me about something else."

"Oh?"

"He knows about all of the casual sex I've had."

"Of course he does."

Harry tilted his head and frowned. "How do you know?"

It was Snape's turn to turn a shade of pink. "I may have told him several months ago when he and I were arguing."

Harry sat up straight. "Are you kidding? Why would you do that?"

"I thought it would get him off my back. Dumbledore likes to meddle in things that aren't any of his business. If he knew his Golden Boy weren't so golden, he would focus on you instead."

Harry threw his arms in the air, causing Snape to jump. "Why does everyone call me Dumbledore's Golden Boy?"

Snape seemed surprised by Harry's outburst. "He gives you the largest staff quarters, preferential seating, the best detention days, and lets you do as you please around the castle."

Harry sighed. "It's something that I've been told as a child. I can't believe it followed me all the way to the 1980s."

"It's not a great nickname, but I'd rather receive preferential treatment from that man than be on his bad side."

"You're not wrong." Harry relaxed, leaning more into Snape. The layers of robes felt nice against his face. "Do you realize you're also a Dumbledore Golden Boy?"

Snape scoffed. "I'm nothing of the sort."

Harry reached his hand for Snape's hand. "When I was at school, every time I would say something about you, he'd defend you. He trusted you with his life and said so quite often. He recognized that you held a grudge, but it only made you human."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the snow drip off the trees. Harry was still reluctant to share everything he knew about the future, but it was impossible to try to be in a relationship without talking about his past, especially with Snape. He felt as if he needed to share all of his secrets and dreams to keep his trust.

Being with Snape was a lot easier than Harry’d expected it to be. He thought back to how much Snape favored Malfoy, but it wasn't like that. Snape babied Malfoy, while he treated Harry with respect. Harry was grateful that he was seen as an equal, but wasn't sure what was in store for their relationship.

"I was wondering—" Snape stopped as Harry sat up to look at him.

"Yes?"

"I've spent a lot of time in your rooms, but you've never been down to mine. Would you like to see my quarters?" At Harry's surprised face, Snape began to fidget with Harry's fingers. "I don't mean it as in, _come see my quarters_. I don't plan on seducing you down there."

Harry grinned. "Maybe you should."

Snape's eyes glittered as he stood up, pulling Harry up with him. "Careful, Hitchens. I would hate for you to say something you'll regret later."

**

They tried to walk as normally as possible through the Hogwarts castle without drawing much attention, but Harry could feel his excitement bubbling over. Students were bound to notice something was happening. Luckily, they only met a few on their way to the dungeons.

Harry recognized the entrance to the Slytherin dormitories as they passed it, approaching an ancient and peeling portrait of Merlin. Snape poked Merlin in the nose and a sliding door opened to the right.

"You poke Merlin to get to your quarters?"

"Dumbledore thought it would be amusing. I find it rather disrespectful."

Harry stepped through the passageway and was met with a set of stairs. "Do the Slytherins bother you much here?"

"Most of them are afraid of me."

The passage door slid closed. Harry took in the view of Snape's rooms.

Just as Harry suspected, Snape was not a Slytherin obsessed with green. Instead, his rooms were very tastefully decorated with rosewood furniture, iron lamps, and an enormous bookshelf filled with books. Potions books lay open across every piece of furniture, with Snape's handwriting scribbled in each one of them. At the end of the entrance room was a huge window with a view of the inside of the lake.

"Your quarters are very nice."

"Very nice?" Snape stepped around Harry and motioned to his room. "They're much better than yours."

Harry laughed and slid his hands around Snape's waist. "I can't argue with that." Snape looked down at him and Harry realized he was grinning like an idiot. "Sorry."

Snape didn't seem to care, and kissed him instead.

Harry moved even closer to Snape, pressing against him so they were completely touching. Snape gripped the nape of Harry's neck and deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance inside Harry's mouth.

Harry opened his mouth further, letting out a moan as he allowed Snape to devour him. He had no idea that snogging could feel as blissful as kissing Snape did.

Snape pulled away and laid kisses down Harry's neck. At some point, Snape must have removed Harry's robes, as his fingers were now unbuttoning Harry's shirt. He put all of his weight into Snape, as Harry's legs were buckling.

"Where's your bed?"

"Haven't you heard? I sleep upside down like a bat." Snape slid Harry's sleeves down his body and moved his fingers to Harry's belt, his mouth going back to his neck.

"Ha ha. Seriously. I'm going to fall over if you keep doing _that_." Harry tried not to moan like a teenager.

Snape's mouth traveled back up to Harry's lips and he pushed them across the room as they kissed.

Harry had no idea how they managed to make it to the bed, but he eventually felt himself falling down to a mattress. His cock strained as Snape teased Harry's nipples, their lips still pressing together. He could hardly breathe. "Please."

Snape pulled away several inches, his pupils completely dilated. His voice was much lower than it had been earlier. "Please what?"

"I need you to touch me."

"I thought that's what I was doing."

Harry's entire body tensed. "I need you to make me come."

Snape's lips curled into a cruel smile. He pushed Harry further up the bed as he moved down, sliding Harry's trousers down, revealing Harry's cock.

For several moments, Harry and Snape stared at each other. After what seemed like an agonizing eternity, Snape dipped his head down and wrapped his lips around Harry's prick.

" _Fuck_."

Harry tried to avoid pushing up, but Snape seemed to understand what he wanted and took Harry's entire length into his mouth. He threw his head back and moaned, gripping the sheets as Snape began moving, Harry's prick still deep inside his throat. It felt so warm, so right, so perfect.

It took just a few moments for Harry to feel a deep burning inside his gut and his vision to turn white. Harry shut his eyes tight as he came, his fingers grasping onto Snape's hair as Snape took every last drop from him.

Snape released Harry's spent cock with ease and moved forward to join Harry at the head of the bed. Harry looked around and realized he was nude, while Snape was still completely covered in clothing.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Do you want me to—"

Snape traced circles along Harry's chest, making him shiver. "I have far better control than you do."

Harry grinned. "Oh really? How about we test that?" His hand moved down Snape's middle, then palmed the other man's erect cock through his clothing. Snape closed his eyes and hummed. "I'd be more than happy to help. All you need to do is ask."

Snape shook his head, keeping his eyes shut as Harry squeezed his prick. He reached down and felt the outline of his sac.

"Bloody hell. Fine."

Harry sat up and quickly unbuttoned Snape's trousers and released his prick, wrapping his fingers around it. He watched Snape's expression change from frustrated to pleased, his eyes still closed. Harry increased his speed, making sure to rub his thumb along the tip of Snape's cock. 

Harry looked Snape up and down. He was perfect; Snape was handsome in the most unexpected way. His jawline jutted out, leading Harry to admire his collarbone. Harry noted that Snape looked softer with his eyes closed, his eyelashes fluttering with every stroke Harry made. His lips were full and half open in a silent moan. This was not the man Harry had known at Hogwarts.

Snape began snapping his hips along with Harry's movement, growing even harder in Harry's hands. Several moments later, Snape came. His entire body tensed and flushed and he held his breath. Harry stared in wonder as he watched the man in front of him come completely undone.

"You're amazing."

Snape reached for his wand and cleaned off his robes, which were covered in come. "Don't ruin the moment, Potter."

"I can't help it."

Snape fixed his trousers and turned to Harry, who was still sitting up without any clothes. "Aren't you cold?"

"A bit. I suppose I should go find my clothes."

Snape reached out to Harry to prevent him from climbing off the bed. "You could also get under the covers."

Harry grinned. Snape was bollocks at using his words, but he had learned to interpret the man's gestures. Snape held open his comforter and they climbed in together. He wrapped his arm around Harry, pulling them close.

"I still feel odd that you have all of your clothes on and I don't."

Snape pulled away for a moment and waved his wand to a rack near the door. His robes appeared on them, hanging on a side. "Is that better?"

Harry glanced down and noticed Snape had considerably less clothing on, just an undershirt and his trousers. "If that's the best you can do, I suppose it is."

"There will be no spooning."

"Of course not."

Snape brushed the hair out of Harry's face. "It isn't even nightfall yet."

"We can take a nap. That way, we'll be refreshed for dinner."

With that, sleep claimed them.

**

Harry woke up in pitch black. The lantern that had been keeping the room lit was out. He heard the sound of Snape's breathing and the dripping of water through the walls.

Once Harry realized where he was, his heart rate slowed and he closed his eyes again.

Snape's body radiated heat, keeping him quite content to stay in the spot where he was. Harry covered his face in the blankets, nudging his head against the pillow.

He had slept with Snape through the night.

He never thought he'd live to experience that. Despite how surprising it was, he would be content to do it again, as many nights as Snape would have him.

Harry thought back to the first few months after Hogwarts, how he had tried dating men. How he grew attached to the men he met. How they only cared about his reputation. How that broke his heart. He vowed after the third time that he wouldn't allow himself to be vulnerable. Not committing to anything was easier than heartbreak.

It had been years since he slept next to someone he had been involved with sexually. He had to admit, it was nice. He felt safe with Snape, as though being with him made him invincible.

They were just a few days into their relationship, but it felt so much longer. Harry had known Snape for years. They had been friendly for a month or two and, finally, Harry had broken down and let Snape know how he felt.

Then his stomach began growling.

Snape stirred and began rubbing his eyes. Without looking, he lit the lamp with his wand. He must have seen Harry's shadow, for Harry suddenly found himself pinned to the bed, Snape's wand pointing straight between his eyes.

Without any comment from Harry, Snape released him. He spoke in a hollow voice: "Instinct."

Harry reached for Snape's shoulder. "I understand."

Snape kept an even facial expression. "I haven't slept through the night in years."

"It took me ages to do it, after everything I saw during the war."

"There was another war?"

Harry mentally kicked himself. "Yeah. There was. I saw a lot of my friends die and a lot of other horrible things." He rushed through his explanation.

"I did a lot of horrible things."

"You realized what you were doing was wrong."

"Did I?" Snape's face turned grim. "I was a fool, looking for someone to look up to."

"You aren't that person anymore. Come, let's sneak into the kitchens and nick some toast."

Snape ignored Harry. He looked forward, as though deep in thought. "Did I die because I was a Death Eater?"

"I'd rather not talk about this right now."

"You said I died saving you. Was I a spy again?"

Harry could feel his anger rising. It was impossible to feel romantic when he thought back to that night. "You died because Voldemort didn't understand wandlore."

Snape twitched at the mention of Voldemort. "He returned?"

"Look, I get that you're feeling more pensive after a full night's sleep, but can't we enjoy it instead of talking about this?"

"I'll drop the subject if you tell me how the Dark Lord returned."

Harry decided to be honest, especially since it wouldn't make any sense to Snape. "Peter Pettigrew and Barty Crouch Jr. used a spell."

"Both of those men are dead."

Harry got out from under the covers and found his trousers. "Look, I told you how it happened. You didn't ask for me to explain the details. I hate talking about the war. In time, I'm sure I'll tell you all about it."

Snape glowered at Harry but didn't respond. Instead, he waved his wand at the table through the doorframe, and two plates of food appeared. "I don't nick food from the kitchens."

Harry walked to the table and sat down. Freshly toasted bread and jam, along with a steaming pile of eggs, were on the plate. He took a bite of the eggs as he watched Snape stand up, put on a set of casual robes on top of his undershirt, and joined Harry.

After a moment, Snape sighed. "This feels so domestic."

"I know. I haven't had breakfast with a bloke in nearly five years."

"That leads to something I'd like to speak with you about."

Harry glanced up and sipped some of his tea.

"I don't think it would be wise to share the news of whatever you want to call this is between us."

"I figured you'd feel that way."

"It is more for your sake than mine. Our colleagues don't care for me much. More important, I have a lot of enemies. You shouldn't have to deal with what I do just because we are seeing each other."

Harry wasn't surprised. Snape was a very private person and revealing who he was involved with wouldn't make sense. "I understand."

"You're not going to fight me on that?"

"No. I would rather get to know you away from everyone else. Snape, you forget that in my world, I'm famous. I hate the spotlight."

Snape didn't answer, but Harry thought he saw a smile form around his lips as he took a drink of his tea.

**

A jet of red light narrowly missed Harry's face. He ducked down and sent three spells in succession at his attacker, rolling away to dodge another spell.

His opponent drew closer, the spells firing at a rapid pace. Harry threw up a Shield Charm just in time.

A collective gasp came from the crowd as Snape broke the Shield Charm. Harry was trapped but, for him, this was just another day as an Auror—the exciting part of the job. He shoved Snape, ran around him, and pointed his wand to Snape's throat.

The students of the Dueling Club erupted in applause. He released Snape, who didn't seem completely thrilled to have lost to Harry.

"We will not be teaching you the street-fighting method of dueling." Snape cast a glance at Harry, then turned back to the students. "Instead, you will learn the basics of dueling at a competitive level. Make no mistake, competitions are dangerous. Every time you duel, even for sport, you risk your life."

"We might incorporate a more modern twist on things."

"The rule of dueling specifically states one particular rule that Professor Hitchens broke. Can anyone identify that rule?"

Bill Weasley's hand shot into the air.

"Yes, Mister Weasley?"

"You are not allowed to physically touch your opponent. You can only use magic."

"If Professor Hitchens were competing in a tournament, he would have been immediately disqualified."

Harry grimaced. "If we were in a real situation—"

"I agree with that, Professor. You should attempt to stay alive by any means. However, we are not in a real situation. Instead, we wish to introduce our students to the basics of dueling for sport."

The students watched Harry and Snape bicker for several more minutes. Word had gotten out that they were in a fistfight a few months before. Several students were there just to watch Harry beat up Snape again.

Once Harry had given up on defending himself, they gave the basics for dueling. Students practiced the proper pre-dueling ritual together until Snape was satisfied that they understood the rules.

It had been several weeks since he and Snape had kissed in Hogsmeade. They hadn't progressed much further physically, but had spent several nights together each week. During the school week, it was difficult for them to find much alone time, as they were busy working on their plans and marking.

Harry admired Snape's restraint. Even though several students walked in the wrong direction and accidentally sent sparks at their partner, he kept his composure and didn't take any points away from Gryffindor, nor did he give preferential treatment to the Slytherins.

"When will we learn all of the spells you were doing, Professor Hitchens?"

Harry smiled down at the third year Hufflepuff. "You'll learn all of the nonverbal spells once you get to a NEWT level. You need a strong framework of wand work before you can master what Professor Snape and I were doing."

He caught Snape watching him. The other man flushed slightly and turned back to demonstrating the proper way to holster a wand to a group of fifth year students. 

They finished the session shortly after that. Several Ravenclaws stayed to help clean up the classroom. Harry thought he heard Snape say something about "bloody swots," but he accepted the help and said nothing more.

Once all of the students were gone, Harry sat down on one of the chairs. "That went really well."

"It went as well as expected."

"I think everyone is excited to learn more about dueling."

"I agree."

Harry glanced down at his shoes, which were scuffed. He rubbed at the mark, when he was suddenly pinned to the chair, a wand straight between his eyes.

"I will always win a duel if we're playing by the same rules." 

Harry's pulse raced. Snape's words were threatening and his voice was low, but Harry knew he wasn't in any real danger. More important, Snape was inches away from his face.

Harry shifted in his seat, trying to adjust his lengthening cock. "I was holding back during our demonstration. You may have the element of surprise, but I would definitely win during a formal duel."

"Really? That's what you're going to go with? I would hope you were holding back, as your wand work was pathetic."

"My wand work was impeccable. Don't forget that I was once an Auror."

Snape smirked at the comment. "The Auror Department is a joke. It's filled with power-hungry bastards who would turn sides at the snap of a finger."

"Not all of them."

"No, but there are enough to warrant a generalization."

"I wasn't."

"I can't imagine you would ever turn sides."

Harry smiled. He could never tell if some of Snape's comments were insults or compliments, but he tried to take them as positive. "You realize you still have your wand to my throat, right?"

"I plan on forcing you to perform unspeakable acts tonight."

"I don't think it's force if I want to do it." Harry grabbed a handful of Snape's robes and pulled him down. Snape dropped his wand and it lay forgotten on the ground as they kissed. Harry deepened the kiss and Snape straddled him, rocking his hips back and forth in Harry's lap.

Snape pulled away and Harry let out a whine. "We should go somewhere more private than a first floor classroom."

A voice sounded from the door frame. "Right, or someone might see you."

Snape toppled out of Harry's lap and Harry's eyes bugged out.

Emma Dawlish, Zachary Melborne, and Ryan Hornby were staring at Harry and Snape, their mouths wide open in shock.

Harry attempted to recompose himself, but he was sure his flushed face and tousled hair didn't help. He stood and stepped towards the three Gryffindors. "What can I do to help you three?"

Emma was the first to talk. "Zachary left his Transfiguration book in here, so we doubled back to find it."

"We can come back later if you need to finish up." Ryan doubled up in laughter.

Snape shuddered in fury and straightened his robes. Harry held up a hand. He knew Snape was incredibly sensitive to anyone poking fun at him, even if it was not meant to cause harm.

"What you saw was very unprofessional. I am very sorry you had to see that."

Emma interrupted Harry's apology. "I'm not. I've never seen anything like that before."

"Do you love each other?"

Snape rolled up his sleeves and rushed at the three students, who cowered in fear. "For the love of Merlin. Do not speak to your professors like that. Do not speak to anyone else about what you saw. If you do, I will make your life a miserable nightmare. Do you understand?"

Emma, Ryan, and Zachary all nodded, clearly terrified of the professor standing in front of them.

"Snape, I'm not sure threatening them is the best way to handle this."

The students turned to Harry, then back at Snape in unison as if they were watching a television program.

"Hitchens, I don't think you understand the severity of the situation."

Harry threw his arms in the air. "Three students just saw us snogging. Threatening them makes it even worse."

"Please don't fight. We won't tell. We promise." Emma put her hands together, pleading.

"We won't?" Ryan looked at his friend, surprised.

"No. We know a secret about _two professors_. That's cool enough."

"It is?"

Emma elbowed Zachary. "Of course."

"If you intend on blackmailing us, you have something else coming to you." Snape glared at the students.

"Of course not."

Snape raised his wand again. "We should Obliviate them. We can make them forget it ever happened."

Harry stepped between Snape and the students, who were looking horrified. "Aren't we already in a large enough ethical dilemma where cursing students is out of the question?"

Snape groaned and put his wand away. "I forgot that all four of you value loyalty and friendship above all else. Deal with this, Hitchens, or I swear all of you will rue the day you were born." He made a huffing sound and swooped away, disappearing down the corridor to the dungeons.

Harry sighed. "I'm really sorry you had to see that. I know you said you don't want to blackmail us, but is there anything I can do to make it better?"

Emma looked back and forth at Zachary and Ryan, as though they could converse in their heads. Finally, she turned to Harry and smiled. "You can do two things for us."

"As long as they're reasonable."

"The first thing is we want you to show us your Patronus. There's a rumor it's a dragon."

Harry whipped out his wand, and his silver stag erupted out, taking several gallops around the classroom. The students cheered, and then turned back to Harry.

"The second thing we want is for you to answer a question for us."

"Okay."

"Why are you keeping your relationship a secret?"

"I don't think that's an appropriate question to ask your teacher."

"Well, we don't think it's appropriate to snog in classrooms."

Harry rubbed his temple. "It's much more complicated than you can imagine."

"Try us."

"Yeah, I've had three girlfriends this school year." Zachary puffed out his chest.

"Have any of you found something wonderful? Something that made you unimaginably happy?"

They nodded. Harry continued. "Have you ever wanted to clutch onto that wonderful thing and never let it go, not wanting to share it with the world? Because perhaps once the world saw it, they might take it away or make it feel less special? That's how I feel about Professor Snape."

Emma seemed satisfied with Harry's answer, but Zachary still seemed confused. "But Professor Hitchens, if it really is wonderful, shouldn't its beauty be displayed for all to see?"

"Not when it comes to grumpy Potions master candidates. You'll have to take my word on that."

"I suppose we can do that much. I promise we won't tell anyone. I'll make sure these two keep their mouths shut." Emma motioned to Ryan and Zachary, who huffed at her. "Bye, Professor Hitchens! Good luck with your special something!"

Harry walked stiffly to McGonagall's office. He needed to speak with someone and he knew she would set him straight. He was mortified. He didn't want to lose his job, but he didn't think he could bear the knowing eye of his three most troublesome students.

He knocked at her office doors, which opened right away. She bade him inside and sat back down.

"Good evening Hitchens. I heard your club went smoothly."

Harry nodded, still completely expressionless. He sat down in the seat across from her desk.

"Are you alright?"

He shook his head. Finally, he found his voice. "I just had a lecture on relationships from a group of second year students."

McGonagall clasped her hands together and leaned forward. "That seems highly inappropriate."

"Not nearly as inappropriate as what I'm about to tell you."

**

"Can I come in?"

"Did you fix the situation?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I think so."

Snape stepped aside for Harry to walk in. Harry took a seat on Snape's chair and pulled his legs up. He looked at Snape, who had clearly been pacing. His hair was unruly and he looked even more deep in thought than normal.

"The kids won't tell anyone."

"Are you sure?"

"Emma Dawlish gave me her word, and Gryffindors don't back down from their word."

Snape let out a breath, the stress seeming to leave as well. He sat down at his table and looked back at Harry. "Is that all?"

"I spoke with McGonagall afterwards."

"Why would you do that?"

"For starters, she's their Head of House. She has a right to know what happened with her students. Furthermore, I felt completely out of my element and I needed to speak with someone I could trust."

"I can't believe you would do something that foolish."

Harry placed his feet back on the floor and looked straight into Snape's eyes. "I didn't want us to get in more trouble. Do you have any idea what could have happened if we didn't let someone else know what happened?"

Snape made a sour face. "I don't know, perhaps we could go on living our lives in peace? You know she's going to run straight to Dumbledore."

"I don't think she's going to say anything to Dumbledore, either. She said we should, but in the end, it was up to us."

"Good. We don't say anything else and we keep everything behind closed doors."

Harry sighed. "There aren't any rules about staff members dating. I understand not wanting to share anything else, but don't you think Dumbledore will figure it out?"

"When he does, we can have that discussion." Snape turned around in his seat and focused on an ancient tome in front of him.

"Where does that leave us?"

Snape didn't respond, so Harry stood up and joined him at the table. "Don't shut me out again, Snape."

He covered the sides of his head with his hands. "Potter, I need some time alone. Can you grant me that much?"

"I want to make sure you know how sorry I am for all of this."

Snape was silent, then looked up at Harry. "I don't care if you're sorry. We should take a step back and remember that we aren't schoolchildren snogging behind tapestries. Now, if you don't mind, I've asked you to leave."

Harry bit his lip. He wanted to make this right. "Fine."

Just as he turned to leave, he heard a shuffling sound behind him. Before he could react, he was swept into a mind-melting kiss.

Everything Snape failed to say was made clear in the kiss. This was an apology, his own forgiveness, and a promise that everything would be alright. Harry felt the tension leave his body as Snape pulled him even closer, holding him after the kiss had ended.

**

"Professor Hitchens, I still don't understand why we need to learn about fire-crabs."

Harry turned to Emma Dawlish and smiled. "The idea behind first and second year classes is to give you a mix of what is to come in the later classes. Magical creatures, both good and evil, are essential to learn about. Fire-crabs are lesser evils, but some of the skills you learn at a young age will be applied to classes as you get older."

She seemed to accept that answer and went back to working with Zachary and Ryan on trapping their fire-crab without burning themselves.

Harry sighed and glanced around at the rest of the class. He and Snape hadn't spent much time together since the incident after the Dueling Club meeting. It seemed as though no matter what, Snape distracted him from his work.

Without Snape by his side, Harry spent most of his time in his room reading up on time travel, both Muggle and wizard, fiction and nonfiction. He was fascinated by the subject. There were many different theories out there. Part of him was still relieved that he didn't have to worry about a paradox, but his heart still felt heavy knowing that he would most likely never see his friends again.

He also researched the man Dumbledore was preparing to meet, Shyam Premji. This man also believed in applying Muggle physics to magic, to create a more effective way to travel long distances. While Hermione had been using physics to create light, Premji focused on physical movement, with light as a residual effect. Harry's brain began aching after several minutes of reading through Premji's dissertation.

Harry wasn't sure what he would do if he could go home. Even then, it probably wouldn't be a failsafe, completely effective method. He doubted Premji's theory had been tested.

"Professor? We have all of the crabs in their cages."

Harry looked around and, sure enough, all of the fire-crabs were locked up. Bill Weasley was looking particularly proud of himself as he brushed off a bit of soot off his robes.

"Excellent job, everyone. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, how about I let you out a bit early for doing so well?"

Everyone cheered and began packing up. Harry couldn't bring himself to do the lecture on the Vermillious Jinx he had planned. His mind was elsewhere.

His mind was on Snape.

"Sir, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Harry turned to Ryan. "I'm not sure if this is the best time, Ryan. I have some work to get done."

Ryan cast his eyes down. "I did a terrible thing."

"What did you do?" Harry's pulse picked up. He had never seen Ryan look so guilty.

"Zachary, Emma, and I took a crab. We were going to set it loose in the kitchens. I went along with it at first, but I don't want to hurt the house-elves."

"Where is it?" Harry looked around. "Where are they?"

Ryan hung his head. Harry raced out the door, in search of Emma and Zachary. There would be pandemonium in the kitchens if the fire-crab got out. Harry wasn't sure if the house-elves had even seen a fire-crab. Sure, they were powerful, but the only way to stun a fire-crab was to get their underbelly.

He saw Emma's long hair whip around a corner. Harry picked up his pace, almost down the corridor to the kitchens.

A door flung open in front of him, and Harry skidded to a halt.

"Professor Hitchens, don't you know you're not supposed to run in the halls?"

"Move it, Alwin!"

The sixth year ducked out of the way as Harry raced forward, dodging another group of students as he made it around the corner Emma disappeared from.

He looked around. It was a dead end, except for a door to the left. This wasn't the kitchens. He slowly opened the door, and felt himself shoved into a broom closet. The door slammed behind him, locking from the outside. Harry lost his balance and fell onto the floor. A body softened his fall.

"Where the fuck am I?"

Harry looked down and realized Snape was underneath him. "How did you get here?"

"One of those foolish prank wands. I confiscated one and it bopped me in the head. That bratty Gryffindor must have dragged me here," Snape grunted. "The bastards stole my wand as well."

"Why would they lock us in a broom closet?"

As if Harry had said the magic words, the lights flicked on. They glanced around. There was a table with a picnic cloth over it, along with bread, soup, and a bowl of fruit. Sultry music played from a small pair of speakers. Harry stood up and noticed a note on the table.

_Professors Snape and Hitchens,_

_We're terribly sorry if we caused problems in your relationship. To help out, we've put together a meal. We hope you can sort out your issues._

_Please forgive us, both for walking in on you two and now, for locking you in a broom closet._

_Sincerely,_

_Emma, Ryan, and Zachary._

Harry groaned. Snape tried to open the door.

"It's probably on some sort of timer."

"I can break through it."

Harry shrugged. "Or we could enjoy the dinner our thoughtful students prepared for us."

"You think we should let them get away with this? Again?"

"This wasn't the most well thought-out plan, but it got us in a room together."

Snape sneered at Harry. "Wasn't that what got us in trouble in the first place?"

"They clearly don't mean for this to be malicious."

"There's always something malicious behind a prank like this."

Harry took a seat at the table. "Is that what this is about? You think every little prank is to hurt you?"

Snape leaned against the door and elbowed it, ignoring Harry's question.

"I know you were bullied in school."

"Did you find that out looking through my memories?"

"Well, yeah. But it wasn't like that. You certainly thought it was at the time, though." Harry chuckled at the memory.

"What do you mean?"

"Come here. Look through my mind. I know you can do it without a wand."

Snape stood up and stepped over to meet Harry at the table. His long fingers brushed against Harry's temple, tickling his cheek. Harry closed his eyes.

He was taken back to his fifth year at Hogwarts, where he had witnessed Arthur Weasley being attacked by Nagini, the hallway to the Department of Mysteries, Snape and Sirius attacking each other, Harry opening the doors to Snape's private labs for his Occlumency lessons.

_"Clear your mind, Potter. Let go of all emotion. You are lazy and sloppy, Potter. Perhaps you actually enjoy having these visions and dreams, Potter. Maybe they make you feel special—important."_

Harry remembered how much he hated Snape back then, how he yearned to punch him in the face, how he felt satisfaction when he sent the Stinging Hex at him. He made sure Snape knew how the Snape he knew at Hogwarts tortured him during those sessions, how he mocked Harry at any chance he got.

His mind wandered to the night they found Montague in the toilets. He remembered how he was curious, wondering what exactly Snape was hiding from him. He remembered watching Snape's memory during their OWLs, how James and Sirius had tortured Snape, flipping him around in the air. He remembered the bruise Snape had left on his arm, after he told him to never come back.

Harry felt Snape's fingers tremble on his skin, but he pressed on. He thought back to Remus and Sirius, how miserable Harry felt even after they consoled him. He remembered that Harry felt more like Snape than his father, an outcast who wasn't loved by his family.

Harry finally looked up at Snape, his eyes misty with tears. Snape slumped into the chair next to Harry's, unresponsive.

"I never meant to see those memories, to know you were bullied by my father. It just happened that way."

"Why would you show that to me?"

"To prove I wasn't snooping around in your mind, like you insisted when I first got here."

"I was horrible to you."

Harry was taken aback. "Was that what you got from that?"

"How could you want me after knowing that's how I treated you?" Snape turned away from Harry, looking far more interested in the silverware at the table.

Harry reached out and took Snape's hand. "Because you're not that person. Even then, I should have realized you were trying to help me. Don't forget, I wasn't the best student for you, either."

"Even so, Potter, you must be mad if you want to be with me. You don't think about how I treated you every time you see me?"

Harry shrugged. "You've been far worse to me in this timeline, and I'm still here, aren't I? When I was growing up, neither of us was willing to try and understand the other. This time around, I have far more patience and you don't have as many years of hatred to get past."

Snape sighed. "I don't believe I will ever be adjusted to the idea of you knowing me before I knew you."

"Let's not worry about that right now. I want to enjoy this dinner that our wonderful students put together for us."

"You mean insipid fools. ' _Please forgive us_ ,'" Snape scoffed, but tore off a piece of the bread and began eating it.

Harry grinned. "I should probably tell you something else."

Snape looked nervous for the first time since Harry had been in this timeline.

"I still have my wand. And yours is behind you on the shelf."

Harry grinned as Snape stood, grabbed his wand, and sat back at the table, pouting as he ate a spoonful of soup.

**

After a quiet but pleasant dinner in a broom cabinet on the first floor of Hogwarts, the door clicked open and Harry and Snape made their way to Snape's quarters. Harry liked his rooms in Gryffindor tower, but there was something comforting about watching the motions of the underwater life in the lake.

"It looks like you've cleaned up since I was last here." Harry glanced around the room, noting that the books were back on the shelves, the papers stacked neatly into folders.

"Do we really need the small talk, Potter?" Snape's voice was more like a growl.

Harry winked and walked into Snape's bedroom. He reached to unfasten his robes, but Snape came up behind him and covered his hands.

"Let me." Snape's voice was a whisper in Harry's ear, giving him a chill of arousal.

Snape's began sucking on Harry's neck as his fingers made quick work of the buttons down Harry's robes, sliding them off quickly. Harry melted into Snape's arms, rutting his arse against Snape's front side. Snape ripped off Harry's shirt and buttons flew in every direction. Harry spun around and kissed Snape with fervor.

It was heaven. He was in this for the long haul, whatever Harry had to put up with, if only to experience this just one last time. There had never been anyone who could cause Harry to come undone quite like Snape, and he proved it time and time again.

Just as Harry thought he was going to lose his grip on reality, Snape guided him to the bed, wrapping his arms around Harry as they fell freely on top of the soft mattress.

Harry threw his head back and moaned as Snape laid soft kisses along his jawline, reaching his chin, down his neck, and straight to Harry's nipples. He traced each nipple with his tongue, gently sucking, causing Harry to rock his hips forward, desperate to be touched. Snape simply grinned and pushed Harry's hips back down, returning to his attention to Harry's midsection.

He kissed lower and lower, eventually reaching the waistband of Harry's trousers. Snape unbuttoned them, and pulled them down, allowing Harry's cock to spring forward.

Harry was barely able to breathe, but he managed to find his voice. "I need you inside of me."

Snape looked up at Harry, a serious expression on his face. "Are you sure?"

They had been taking their physical relationship far slower than either of them had done before. Considering their rather fast-paced history with other men, they wanted to wait until the opportune moment. Harry decided that this moment was it. He wanted to prove to Snape that despite all of those negative memories, they would stand a chance together.

"Positive. But if you keep stroking me like that, I doubt I'll last very long."

Snape dipped his hand down along Harry's perineum and to his crack. Harry tensed, feeling Snape's cold fingers reach his pucker.

He performed a quick lubrication spell and gently nudged a finger inside Harry. Harry willed himself to relax, closing his eyes and enjoying the slight burning feeling of Snape's fingers inside him.

Snape began to move his fingers more, drawing circles in Harry's arse. Harry opened his eyes and watched the intensity of Snape's gaze, how he was so methodical and precise, even in his lovemaking.

He added another finger and Harry briefly forgot what he was thinking about. He began to see spots as Snape added a third finger, reaching for that small nub of nerves inside Harry.

"Merlin, please fuck me."

"Merlin?" Snape pressed his fingers even deeper and raised an eyebrow at Harry.

He steadied his breath as best he could. "S-Severus."

Snape's fingers left Harry's arse. Harry watched as he undressed slowly, taking time to give each button attention before he pressed it open. Eventually, he pushed down his trousers and lifted Harry's legs into the air. 

Harry felt the pressure of Snape's cock at his entrance. He folded his legs as far down as he could, his feet meeting near his face. Snape pressed inside, coming forward to give Harry a brief kiss, then holding himself up by placing his hands beside Harry's shoulders.

At first, Snape didn't move at all. They lay on the bed together, frozen in time, in this perfect shape. Then, Snape began shallow thrusts, ensuring Harry was properly relaxed and stretched out. In that moment, Harry felt as though he had been ready for this his entire life.

Harry reached his arms out, holding onto the sheets as though his life depended on it as Snape picked up the pace and began thrusting deeper.

He finally understood what Dumbledore meant when it came to loyalty and sex. Ron and Hermione had tried talking to him about it before, and Harry had shrugged it off. Sex was sex, and as long as both parties knew what they were doing, it didn't matter how well they knew each other. He realized now how wrong he was. Perhaps he had fucked men more talented than Snape, but it didn't matter. Every move Snape made was earthshattering, every glance, every kiss, every moan was better than Harry had ever experienced.

This was what a relationship was all about. It was the special moments, not just the big pronouncement of love Harry always thought about.

With that epiphany, Harry cried out, reaching his climax with surprise. Snape's thrusts became more erratic and he came deep inside Harry, digging his fingers into Harry's shoulders. Once he had finished, Snape pulled out and Harry dropped his legs back to the bed, allowing Snape to lie on top of him. They shared another sweaty, wet kiss before Snape finally rolled over and faced Harry.

"That was—that was—"

"Don't ruin the moment."

Harry reached for his wand and managed to perform a Scourgify before sleep claimed them both.

**

Harry woke up to the sound of Snape showering. He listened as he heard Snape hum a familiar tune, a rather sprightly melody for such a somber personality.

He buried himself under the covers and made a mental note to thank Emma Dawlish and her cronies. Harry was impressed with how they managed that particular bump in the road, how they managed to rise above the pettiness and deal with the problem at hand. Sure, it wasn't perfect, but things could have been far worse.

The shower clicked off and the sound of Snape humming grew louder. Harry rolled over so his body faced the bathroom, still under the mountain of blankets on Snape's bed.

"It sounds like you're finally awake."

The covers flew off of Harry, leaving him exposed and cold. He curled up into a ball and shut his eyes. "I only just woke up."

Snape climbed on top of him, detangling Harry and pinning him to the bed. Harry looked down and grinned. Snape was naked.

"Not so fast. I just showered. I can't have your post coitus stench all over me."

Harry nudged Snape's growing erection with his knee. "You could have fooled me."

Snape leaned in for a quick kiss and stood up. "I have classes in an hour. If you have nothing else to do, you may stay in here."

Harry sat up and glanced around for his clothes. He recalled that his shirt was ruined, but located his trousers on the floor next to him. "I should probably figure out what I'm doing for classes this afternoon. I'm glad I have the Ravenclaws today, as they manage themselves."

"They're a bunch of arse-kissing swots." Snape whipped out his robes and put his arms through the holes.

"At least they don't lock you in a broom closet." At Snape's silence, Harry laughed. "Too soon?"

"Most definitely."

"I think we should tell Dumbledore about this. Our relationship."

Snape stopped buttoning his robes and looked at Harry. "You should never say, 'I think.' The fact that you are the one saying it proves that it's what you're thinking. Unless you were to state someone else's opinion, simply state your own without those foolish words."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine. We should tell Dumbledore about our relationship."

"If a group of children can figure it out, Dumbledore already knows of it."

"Yes, but he'd like us to tell him." Harry got up and put on his trousers. "Since you ruined my shirt last night, do you have one I can borrow?"

Snape waved his hand and a black shirt materialized in his hands. He tossed it to Harry. "If you must, I suppose you can pop over to see him today."

Harry smiled down at the shirt. It was much longer than he was used to and smelled of Snape. "You don't want to be a part of that conversation?"

"I still don't see how it's anyone's business but our own."

"Well, we've been together for about a month. There's probably some sort of paperwork we need to fill out."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Paperwork?"

Harry's heart fluttered. "To declare it to the governors. In case something happens, we won't be able to sue the school. We are official enough to fill out paperwork, right?"

"It isn't about that. Is that what 2003 is like?" Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose. "How unfortunate."

Relieved, Harry shrugged and combed his fingers through his hair before tying it back. "That's all I've known, I suppose. Wait until you hear about the McDonalds hot coffee ordeal."

"I have no interest in learning what that means."

Harry checked himself in the mirror across the room. "I'm going to get some breakfast in the Great Hall before I speak with Dumbledore."

He went to reach for the door, but Snape pulled him back. "Go through the Floo so none of the students see you. Telling Dumbledore does not mean announcing it to the school."

"Right."

Harry gave Snape another kiss, then stepped through the fireplace, back to his own quarters.

He was always grateful for an entirely positive conversation with—dare he say it—his boyfriend?

**

"Harry, it's wonderful to see you." Dumbledore welcomed him inside his office.

Harry smiled and took a seat. "Thank you, sir. Do you have a moment?"

"An old man like myself has many moments. I am not sure why you would have so much freedom in late March. I would expect you to be out on the Quidditch field, running games with the students."

"I need to speak with you about something, and then I'm sure I will be outdoors with the rest."

"Very well. What can I do for you?"

Harry shifted in his seat. He wasn't sure how Dumbledore would react. "You know that Snape and I have become friends since that afternoon in Hogsmeade."

Dumbledore nodded. "I am aware of that."

He shuffled his feet and tried to look at Dumbledore. It would do no good to keep it in, so he spoke quickly, barely leaving any room between the words. "Snape and I have been romantically involved for over a month."

Instead of responding, Dumbledore began stroking his beard, his eyes boring a hole through Harry's head.

"It was never my intention for anything romantic to happen, but it developed. I didn't even realize I fancied him until after the holidays. We didn't want to say anything until we knew for sure how we felt." Harry stopped speaking when he realized he was rambling.

"Do you?"

Harry paused and looked at Dumbledore, a confused frown forming on his face. "I think so."

Dumbledore was not smiling. Instead, he was watching Harry with a curious, passive expression. "If you knew for sure, you would not speak in uncertain terms."

"I've checked the rules; there is nothing against two professors dating." Harry's pulse was elevated; he was still unsure where Dumbledore was heading with his questions.

"That's not the concern I have."

Harry's racing heart came to a halt. "You're concerned?"

Dumbledore folded his hands on his desk and began speaking slowly, as though carefully choosing his words. "Harry, Severus is in a very vulnerable state right now. It's hardly been a year since your parents were murdered, and it was his fault they're dead. Do you think he's ready for a relationship, let alone with the product of the woman he loved and man he despised?"

Harry shook his head. "But—sir—it isn't like that. Snape is gay. And it wasn't his fault, either."

"When you first got here, you mentioned you had seen Severus’s memories. Do you know how he traded sides and joined the Order before Voldemort's downfall?"

"He came to you. He wanted to protect us."

"He wanted to protect Lily. He felt nothing towards you or James."

Harry bit his lip. "No. Voldemort hadn't planned on killing her. He came to you because he wanted to protect me."

Dumbledore held up his hand. "I'm sorry, Harry, that was thoughtless of me to say. Severus is not a happy man. I hoped you would befriend him as a way for him to begin his road to happiness. You cannot have romance without a steady foundation."

"But sir, he is better. His classes are more pleasant, he is nicer to the staff, and I haven't seen him abuse drugs in months."

"He's better, but he isn't ready for a relationship."

"Shouldn't he be able to decide for himself?"

Dumbledore nodded. "He should, but in his heart, he knows he isn't ready. You know, as well."

Harry slumped in his seat, feeling very much like a teenager again. How could he make Dumbledore understand?

He studied Harry, a somber expression on his face. "I won't force you to do anything. Harry, part of being an adult is knowing when you need to pull away from a relationship. Severus will bring you down to his level, and you don't deserve that."

"He isn't bringing me down! I can help him."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and smiled a half smile. "I, too, once said that about someone I loved."

Harry felt a surge of anger. He stood up so quickly, his chair nearly fell over. "Is that what this is about? Your own experiences? Don't project your past onto my future! I came here to try and do the honorable thing, to not sneak around behind your back, and you tell me how to live my life? I've had enough of that for a lifetime."

Dumbledore didn't respond at first. Harry felt a pang of guilt as the two men stared at each other in silence. He knew Dumbledore was expressing his concerns, but in this case, he was wrong. Dead wrong.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Harry."

His eyes stung, but Harry continued glaring at Dumbledore, willing him to understand. "I won't stop seeing him."

"In that case, I do hope I'm wrong."

Harry remembered how infuriating it was to try and argue with Dumbledore. He would get angrier and angrier and Dumbledore would stay as calm as a lake. "Me, too."

As he turned to leave, Dumbledore spoke again. "I have a piece of information for you. With the news you brought me, I am unsure as to how you will react."

Harry turned around slowly, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Doctor Premji has agreed to meet with you. He believes that, after taking some measurements, he can send you back to the correct time and place. You can go back to your own life." At Harry's silence, Dumbledore continued. "That means I will have to go searching for another Hogwarts Defense professor, but I believe it would be for the best."

"I don't know what to say."

"Then simply say nothing at all, and think on it. Let me know what you decide in the next week."

"Thank you, sir." Harry turned and left Dumbledore's office.

He felt as though he had been punched in the gut. Dumbledore thought his and Snape's relationship was not only doomed, but also unhealthy, and he had also found a way to send Harry back.

Snape had been fine since they started dating. Sure, they bickered quite often, and there was the snogging disaster, but they were still great together. Harry had been happier than as far back as he could remember. He was sure Snape felt the same.

They confided in each other and were working past their pasts. They were helping each other, not bringing themselves down.

What would he tell Snape? How would Snape react to the news? He had pledged his undivided loyalty to Dumbledore. Harry worried that Snape would believe Dumbledore and break things off immediately. Yet, if he lied, that wouldn't set a strong precedent for their relationship.

Harry's head throbbed. He wanted to curl up inside Snape's arms on his bed, but knew that would have to wait. Instead, he walked across the grounds to the courtyard. He sat on a stone bench and watched the students around him go about their day. Time seemed to move slower as he pondered what he should do.

**

Harry lay on his sofa reading a book on counter curses. Without a knock, the door to Harry's quarters opened and Snape glided through the room, hovered over the sofa, and brought his lips to Harry's.

Harry kissed back for a moment, then pulled away. "That's one way to say hello, I suppose."

Snape climbed on top of Harry, dipping his head so their foreheads touched. "I've been thinking about this all day."

"By all means, I shouldn't keep you waiting." Harry brushed the hair out of Snape's face and closed the distance between their lips.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the now-familiar sensations of being with Snape. He couldn't imagine his time at Hogwarts without him—or a place where he was dead.

Harry tried not to let it show as he realized that his leaving would not only ruin the Snape in this place, but he would be going back to a time without him. How could he get through a day with no quick snogs, entwining long fingers together, the smell of cloves and musk left on his clothes? Harry wasn't sure when he had fallen so hard for Snape, but there it was. Harry Potter was completely smitten with Severus Snape.

"If you don't want to, you don't have to."

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Snape, who was looking rather irritated. "It isn't that. It's just—I spoke with Dumbledore."

"If you're making that face, I don't want to know. I warned you."

Snape moved to sit up, but Harry pulled him back. "He advised against it."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You have the right to know."

"Dumbledore is a meddling fool. He is a great man, but to take relationship advice from him would be to take medical advice from a Muggle surgeon." Snape traced his fingers along Harry's cheekbone. "Now, I had to endure the stares of Gryffindors as I climbed the steps to this tower. You'd better make it worth my while."

Harry decided it was far more worth it to stay focused on Snape than think about Dumbledore. He shut his eyes and captured Snape's lips, wrapping his arms around him. They rolled off the couch, falling to the floor with hardly any reaction, Harry locking his legs around Snape to anchor himself.

He loved the feel of Snape's tongue in his mouth. It was cleansing, as though it erased the memory of every man he had ever been with. With Snape, everything was new again. It was beautifully, wonderfully, simply different.

It was almost frightening, if Harry had to be honest with himself. It had been years since Harry allowed himself to be this open, to allow someone to have his heart. Ron and Hermione were different, as being best friends with someone for over ten years can do that. He knew it would be alright.

Harry ended their kiss and opened his eyes. Snape was so close to him, Harry could see every pore on his face. His eyelashes tickled Harry's forehead. "I need to tell you something."

Snape dragged his hand down Harry's torso to cup Harry's prick through his clothes. "I hope this wasn't spurred on by the conversation you had with Dumbledore."

Harry moaned and pushed himself up on his forearms. "When he expressed his concerns, I realized how deeply I felt. I don't want to lose you."

Snape nuzzled his nose against Harry's ear and nibbled it.

"I—I'm—I think—I know I—"

"What?" Snape's voice was a whisper against his lips, a dare, a plea for him to continue.

"I'm completely in love with you." At Snape's sudden stillness, Harry felt the need to speak again. "Please don't make fun of me. I know you aren't one to share your own feelings, but I need you to know."

Snape brought his lips below Harry's ear, pressing slow kisses against his skin. "Relax. I feel the same way, Harry."

His skin buzzed at the use of Harry's given name as Snape continued stroking Harry's cock through his trousers. He needn't have said anything at all, as everything Snape was doing to him now made everything so clear. He closed his eyes again as Snape began unbuttoning his trousers.

Dumbledore was definitely wrong.

**


	4. Make You Feel My Love

Harry woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside his window. It was unusual for Severus to stay the night in the Gryffindor tower, but Harry was grateful that he could reach out and touch Severus in his own blankets.

Except for the fact that Severus wasn't there.

Harry sat up and looked around. Severus was not in the kitchens, nor was he in the bathroom.

He was gone.

Harry quickly threw on a pair of trousers and a thin jumper and began looking for some sign of where Severus had gone off to. There was no note.

Something glistened near the fireplace. Floo powder.

Severus had gone through the Floo?

He wondered what could have caused Severus to leave that quickly without any time to tell Harry where he was headed. Things had seemed the best they had ever been between them that night. They ate dinner in the Great Hall, roamed the corridors looking for out-of-bed students and doing some snogging themselves, then went to bed. Severus had seemed fine the entire night.

Harry walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast, curious whether he would find Severus there. As he entered through the doors, he saw Aurora, Septima, and Slughorn all whispering at the staff table. Students were also looking around, speaking in low voices as they hunched over the tables.

"Professor Hitchens! Come eat with us!" Aurora waved to him. Harry picked up a piece of toast and sat down next to them.

"How are you all this morning?"

"Never mind us, Harry. Have you heard the news?" Septima leaned in towards Harry, licking her lips.

"I just woke up." Harry tried to seem passive and not at all invested in the "news" she was about to tell him.

"Snape stormed out of the castle this morning. Some Ravenclaws heard him yelling at Dumbledore at the crack of dawn and then he left. No one knows where he went."

Harry stared at Septima. Had Dumbledore sent him away? He doubted Dumbledore was that conniving, especially since it wasn't safe for Severus to be out and about in the Wizarding world.

"Is Dumbledore looking for him?"

Aurora snorted. "I doubt it. He just told Horace that they'll be needing to find a replacement apprentice for him."

"A replacement? He's not coming back?"

"I would imagine not. Dumbledore may be an easygoing boss, but he's still the most powerful wizard in the world. You can't talk to him like that and expect to keep your job." Slughorn chuckled. "Brilliant boy, but his temper has always gotten him into trouble."

Harry was numb, his mind racing. Severus was gone. Dumbledore was so sure he was gone, he was looking for someone to take over classes. He felt as though he had been doused with a bucket of ice water.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"You two get on well, don't you? Has he said anything to you about leaving?"

Aurora looked at the pained expression on Harry's face. "I don't think Harry wants to talk right now."

"He doesn't." Everyone turned to look at Minerva, who had come up behind them. "Harry, you need to come with me straightaway."

As Harry stood, he could hear the guesswork being laid down by Septima, Aurora, and Slughorn. He didn't care what sort of rumors flew around about him. All that mattered was finding Severus.

They walked silently at a brisk pace. Harry nearly had to run to keep up with her. "Minerva, what's wrong?"

She gripped Harry's wrist and steered him into her office. "Severus has left the castle."

Harry barked a laugh. "That much I'm aware of. Why? Where is he?"

"Albus asked me to keep this quiet, but you have the right to know."

He felt like he was going to explode. "What happened?"

Minerva took in a deep breath. "This morning, Albus received an owl for Severus. He called Severus to his office."

"What was in the letter?"

"His mother is dying."

Harry blinked. "His mum?"

"Severus went mad. He trashed Albus' office."

"Why would he do that?"

Minerva smiled, though her eyes were misty. "He hasn't seen his mother since before You Know Who's downfall. He blames Albus for keeping him here. Remember Harry, he is in a right state, and with his short temper, I'm shocked students weren't injured during his fit."

"What can I do?"

"Go to him. He won't see Albus, but he might be receptive to you."

"Spinner's End?"

She nodded. "Be cautious, and take care of yourself. Bring Severus back. He may be a pain in the arse, but he's exposed out there."

Harry steeled himself and took in a breath. "Thanks."

He ran to the Hogwarts gates, taking all of the steps out of the castle two at a time. Students stared at him as he sprinted. It wasn't often that they saw a professor completely discommoded.

Once he passed the gates, he pictured Spinner's End, Severus's childhood home, and turned on the spot.

He had only been to the old Derby town once, as a ceremony in honor of Severus's service to the Second War. Harry had even given a speech on the steps of Severus's childhood home.

Harry ended up next to the river. He broke into a run again, racing to the end of the street. He pounded on the door. "Please be home."

The door flung open. "What the _fuck_ do you want?"

Harry stared at the man in front of him. At first glance, he looked like the Severus he had known at Hogwarts. There were lines of age along his eyes and mouth.

Harry looked closer. This man had cigarette stained teeth and reeked of alcohol. He had a large belly, his trousers straining each time the man took in a shallow breath. His eyes were larger, and his hair was almost completely gone.

The man narrowed his eyes at Harry, taking in his clothes. "You're one of the freaks, aren't you?"

Harry was speechless. He was looking at Tobias Snape. "I—er -"

Tobias let out a belch and turned to the house. "SEV'RUS! Get your scraggly arse over here!"

" _What_?" Harry was relieved to hear Severus's voice, despite the fact that it sounded extremely irritated. "What could you possibly need now?"

When Severus came into view, Tobias pointed to Harry, his face turning red. "I thought I told you that people like _you_ aren't allowed in my house."

Severus sneered at Tobias and looked at Harry, his expressing softening. "What are you doing here? I told Albus not to follow me."

He moved past Tobias, shrinking a little as the man puffed out his chest. "Deal with him."

Tobias slammed the door once Severus had made it outside. Harry reached for Severus's hand, but he pulled away. "Why would you possibly think I'd want you to be here?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding?"

"I thought I made it very clear to Dumbledore that I was coming here alone."

"You made that abundantly _clear_ to the entire bloody school when you blew up at him."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "If I was that obvious, why is it that you showed up at my doorstep?"

"I thought you would need someone to be there for you."

"You thought wrong. I don't want you here."

Harry reached for Severus's hand again, but he swatted it away. "So everything we've been through is forgotten the moment you feel vulnerable?"

Severus crossed his arms and looked away. "Shove off, Potter."

"Tell your dad whatever you need to, but I'm staying with you. I won't leave."

Severus huffed. "You're annoyingly stubborn."

"So are you."

"Follow along with whatever I say."

Severus opened the door and Harry followed him through the house.

It looked very similar to the home Harry had visited before, with the addition of beer cans, cigarette butts, and an ancient television sitting in the corner. There was no sign that anyone of magical ability lived there.

Tobias was sitting in a moldy chair, a cigarette in his hand. "Sev'rus, that freak is not allowed in my house."

Severus crossed his arms and glared at his father. "This is Officer Harry Hitchens. He's my probation officer. He is required by law to be here."

Tobias scoffed, turning his nose up at Harry and Severus. "I always knew you'd turn out rotten." He turned to Harry. "What did he do?"

"That's none of your business."

"Boy, it bloody well is my business if I'm harboring a criminal in my home. Officer, do you have some sort of spell to shut up my son?"

Harry stared at Tobias, amazed that someone that unpleasant existed. "We don't really do that sort of stuff."

Severus huffed. "I joined a gang. Would you like to know what I did to get in?"

"I don't see how that's necessary." Harry held an arm out, blocking Severus from his father, who was turning a shade of purple. It was a color he only thought his Uncle Vernon could pull off, but he was clearly wrong. "I'm here to ensure Severus is at the correct location and returns to his home once he has taken his leave."

"Will the officer be staying with us? Is he aware that there's no room for him? Sev'rus is already sleeping on the floor. Don't expect me to put on a show just because you've brought someone with you."

Harry looked down at the floor. There was rotten food on it and cockroaches crawling along the edges of the walls.

Severus turned to Harry, his cheeks burning. "Officer Hitchens, I'd rather you find somewhere else to stay."

Harry took Severus by the arm. "Then you'll be coming with me."

" _Good_. Looking at the whelp makes me sick." Tobias clapped his hands together and leaned back in the chair. He turned on the television.

Harry led Severus to the doorframe. Severus looked furious, but he spoke in a low voice. "Harry, you can't be here."

" _You_ can't be here. We can find an inn."

Severus clenched his fists. "There aren't inns anywhere near here. I need to be here."

Harry saw Severus glance back at the only room in the house with a door. "For your mum?"

Severus pressed his lips together so tightly they turned white. "You _can't_ be here."

Harry noticed Tobias watching them. He stepped back slightly and raised his voice. "I'm going to put a trace on you. If you try to run, I'll know."

"You wouldn't blame me for running if you had to stay with _him_." Severus sneered at his father.

Tobias threw an empty can of beer at Severus. "Stop being such a shit."

Severus shook with fury. The windows shuddered as magic crackled in the air. For the first time since Harry had arrived, Tobias looked frightened of his son. And rightfully so, because Harry watched as Severus's fingers tightened around his wand.

"You don't want to do that, Severus."

Once Tobias saw that Harry would protect him, he smirked. "Yes, son, or they'll put you away for a long time, won't they?"

"Let's go outside. We can make arrangements from there."

The house stopped rattling and Severus turned around, opening the door and stepping out. Harry followed suit, closing the door with a click.

This would be far more difficult than he thought.

Severus walked them down a path along the river. Harry recognized a large tree, as though it were from a distant memory. "Was this where you met my mum?"

He nodded. Without speaking, he pointed his wand at a rock, causing it to shatter like glass. His lips quivered for a moment, then he looked at Harry and repeated himself. "You can't be here."

Harry stared at Severus. "Look, I know you want to be with your mum, but is there something we can do about your father?"

"Nothing short of murder. If he gets angry enough, he won't let me see her."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't need your pity. I just need to get this over with."

Harry magicked a bench next to the water, taking a seat. "I thought your parents had already passed. You've never spoken of them before."

Severus sat next to Harry but didn't face him. "I haven't seen my parents in three years. The Dark Lord would have had them killed."

"How can I help?"

"You can go. If my father finds out that you aren't an officer, it will get even uglier."

Harry paused. "Wait, your father doesn't know that you're gay?"

Severus laughed harshly. "He's always suspected and isn't afraid to make mention of it."

"Does your mother know?"

"My mother lives in her own dream world, where she has a husband that loves her and a perfect son. My sexuality is irrelevant."

It was the first time Severus had mentioned his mother, Eileen. "Severus, I can't leave you."

"Why not? Dumbledore clearly gave up on me."

Harry took Severus's hand and, this time, he didn't fight it. "I don't want you to be alone."

"That's such Gryffindor sentimentality."

"Look, I'll sleep on that chair of your father's. I'd rather do that than leave you with your father."

"Are you afraid I'll hurt him?" Severus's voice was mocking.

"No, I'm afraid he'll hurt you."

It was silent for a moment. Harry listened to the sound of the water trickling through the reeds and the birds singing in the tree above them.

Severus turned away from Harry. "If my behavior with Dumbledore and my father's attitude didn't scare you off, you must be foolish enough to get through anything else that might happen in the coming days."

Harry grinned. No matter how hard Severus tried to pull away, he was determined to prove that their relationship was stronger than that.

**

Once Harry had calmed Severus down, they headed back to the house. Harry was amazed, with what Severus put up throughout his childhood, that he was still alive. There was no running water in the house, and a lavatory outside.

The day had passed quickly. He and Severus worked on cleaning the house. They bagged all of the trash, swept the floors, and killed the roaches. Severus would occasionally step into the bedroom housing his mother and Harry would sit in awkward silence with Tobias, who ate, drank, and smoked constantly.

Severus's cold exterior made far more sense after meeting his father. Based on Severus's memories, Harry knew that growing up was rough, but after meeting Tobias, it was evident that it was simply how they spoke to each other.

Then again, Harry remembered how vicious the Dursleys had been, how they had starved him for days at a time. At least he had found solace at Hogwarts. Severus had little support in school.

He could understand the appeal of joining the Death Eaters. Voldemort's inner circle was like a dysfunctional, disturbing family. Their outward image projected a display of confidence, of self assurance and arrogance, all of which Severus lacked when he finished at Hogwarts. The popular Slytherin boys all took up the job, why not Severus?  
Had Severus's life been just a bit different, if he and his mother had tried to remain friends, perhaps he wouldn't have become a Death Eater.

Dinner came and went. Tobias stayed in the disgusting chair, while Harry and Severus stayed on the now-clean floor.

"Did you go to that bloody school?"

Harry looked at Tobias, who was nursing a bottle of whiskey. He decided to go with the cover Dumbledore gave him. "Actually, I was schooled in India. My family operated a business there."

"Were they like you?"

Harry nodded. "They both had magic."

"I tried to stamp that out of Severus, but he turned out to be a nutter, didn't he?"  
Severus stood, retrieved his own bottle of whiskey, and began drinking.

"Sir, we aren't all that different from you." Harry's voice was light, trying to bring down the tension in the room.

"Don't even bother. Didn't you notice? He wouldn't touch the food I made, because it came from magic." Severus took another swig from the bottle.

"Let him go on. Have him give me a lesson on the differences between wizards and—what do you call it? Muggles? My program is already over, so I could use some entertainment."

Severus rose from the floor. "I'm going to go see Mother."

"Leave the bottle. Her heart is broken enough as it is. She'd hate to know her son is a piss artist."

"What a difference that would make from her husband." Severus left the bottle next to Harry, who was still regretting pushing that they stay in Spinner's End.

It was silent for a few moments, then Tobias turned around to face Harry. "You seem to know my son very well."

"He's been in my charge for over a year. I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't know him."

"Are you a faggot? It seems as though all of you magic folks are queer."

"I don't think that's appropriate to discuss right now."

Tobias chuckled. "You hear about the disease all the fairy boys are getting? Being a faggot makes you sick. I could have told them that."

Harry sat up from against the wall and rubbed the back of his neck. This was like talking to Uncle Vernon. He just had to ignore the comments. He tried to think about what he could do for Severus once his mother passed. Perhaps they could go on holiday? The Easter hols were arriving.

"Right. _You people_ don't give a shit about the problems we have."

Severus appeared in the doorway. "Harry, my mother would like to meet you."

As Harry stood up, Tobias grabbed his wrist with bruising force. His hand was freezing cold, and Harry felt as though spiders were crawling up his spine. "Don't tell her you're a copper."

Harry jerked his arm away. "I won't."

Severus looked ready to bring the house down as Harry nursed his wrist. Harry shook his head to indicate he was fine and glanced inside the bedroom.

A frail woman was under the covers on a mattress in the middle of the room. She had a breathing tube in her nose, and several monitors were beeping every few seconds.

Harry could see the resemblance to the photo Hermione had showed him years ago. She had the same dark hair, the same haunted look in her eyes. Age had caught up with any beauty she had remaining. Despite the fact that she probably was barely fifty years old, she looked far older.

"This is Harry? Let me look at him, Severus."

Severus gave Harry a gentle shove and they both walked closer to the bed. Severus sat beside his mother, taking her hand.

Eileen Snape studied Harry, as though he were the patient in the bed needing to be treated. "I'm so happy to finally meet a friend of Severus's. He's quite shy about who he brings here."

Harry tried to smile. "It's nice to meet you. What exactly is—"

"Cancer. It's spread into my internal organs. The doctor says there's nothing he can do for me now."

"But—have you tried St. Mungo's?"

Eileen laughed. "My dear boy, I haven't done magic in nearly fifteen years. Any magical treatment would probably kill me faster than the cancer."

Severus squeezed his mother's hand. Harry glanced at Severus and then back to Eileen. "I can't imagine not doing magic."

"I did it to ensure my marriage worked. I couldn't have Severus growing up in a broken home. He'd be the laughingstock of the whole school."

"I see." Harry looked at Severus, who was looking intently at her. "How much longer do you have?"

"Any time now. They moved me from the hospital to here when they knew it was time. I'll be grateful when it happens. I've been told it's like falling asleep after a very long day."

"Has Severus told you that I once died?"

The two Snapes looked up at Harry with interest.

Harry was unsure why he decided to share this particular bit of information, especially because he had only shared it with his therapist. "A while back, I was cursed. I woke up in a bright white train station, like King's Cross. I had to choose whether to take the train or go home." Harry paused. "I decided to fight, even though taking the train would be easier."

"Sweet boy, sweet friend of Severus, I'm through with fighting."

Harry nodded, his eyes misty. "I know. It is like going to sleep. There's no pain."

Eileen looked at Harry. "Come closer."

Harry stepped forward so he was at the side of the bed.

"Kneel down."

Severus scooted over as Harry kneeled. Eileen squeezed Harry's cheeks and brought him down, inspecting his face.

"You're related to her, aren't you?"

Harry knew the answer, but had to ask. "Who?"

"The Evans girl. I would know those eyes anywhere." She sat up and looked down at Severus. "Severus, she passed last year, didn't she? She was killed. Who is he? She has a sister, not a brother."

Severus nodded. "Just a sister. Harry is a cousin. They must have inherited the same eyes."

Eileen smiled, making herself look closer to her actual age. "I'm glad. They were so beautiful. She was such a beautiful girl."

Severus looked at Harry, his expression pained. "Would you give us some more time alone?"

"Nonsense, Severus. Harry can sleep on the bed with us if he'd like." Eileen craned her head, as though listening for something. She nodded in satisfaction. "Tobias is already snoring in his chair."

"It would be better than the floor."

"Of course it would, dear. You can even use some magic to make the bed larger."

It had been a surreal day. Just that morning, he woke in his own bed. Now, he was getting ready to sleep in his boyfriend's childhood home with his dying mother in the same bed and his abusive father snoring just outside the room. It was almost too much for him to handle.

Almost.

What kept him grounded was knowing that Severus was in an even worse condition. It was very evident that Severus kept his mother in a safe place where nothing and no one would upset her. It made sense, especially since she was married to the monster that was Tobias Severus.

He extended the bed with ease and lay down beside Severus, who had curled up around his mother as a small child would during a thunderstorm. She ran her fingers through his hair, stroking him. Harry couldn't help but feel as though he were intruding on something incredibly private.

Yet, he couldn't leave them. This softness, this closeness was something Harry had longed to feel. He had never experienced the love of his own mother. Perhaps just by being near this type of love, Harry could feel it.

Once Severus waved the lights off, Harry drifted off to sleep, thoughts of his own mother forgotten.

**

Harry woke up holding hands with Severus. As he opened his eyes, he realized that Severus was already awake and, judging by the dark shadows under his eyes, hadn't slept at all. Instead, he was watching the uneven breaths his mother took. She struggled with every inhale. Severus seemed to hold his breath whenever she paused, an unspoken fear that it could be her last.

"Morning." Harry kept his voice to a whisper, not wanting to wake Eileen.

"She's still alive." Severus seemed surprised. "She hasn't passed on."

"Have you made any arrangements for the funeral?"

Severus shook his head. "It would be ideal to bury her in the family plot, but I'm unsure of the costs."

"I can help you with anything you need to pay to do it right."

"Don't be an imbecile. I won't take your money."

Harry ignored the harshness in Severus's tone. "Fine. I'm sorry I offered."

Harry glanced around the room. Light shone through the window, making the room brighter than it had been even in the candlelight the night before.

"You should get out of the bed. I don't know what my father would do if he saw all of us like this."

Harry stood up slowly. "I'll prepare breakfast, I suppose."

Severus nodded.

Harry passed through the doorframe and wandered out to the main room. He thought he had seen an icebox outside. He walked past Tobias, who was still snoring in his chair.

It saddened him that Severus had to lose his mother and was left with that awful excuse for a human being. He knew Severus would hate him for it, but in that moment, he felt immeasurable amounts of pity.

Harry found the icebox and took out a package of bacon. With his wand, he drew up a plate and heated the sliced pork. A moment later, it was sizzling as thought Harry had just taken it off the frying pan. The heat emitting from the bacon warmed his face in the cool air.

He reentered the house; the smell of bacon must have woken Tobias. 

"Morning, officer." Tobias' voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Harry nodded at him. "Would you like some food?"

Tobias sneered. "Did you use your freak powers to make that?"

"I used a Warming Charm. It's quite safe, really."

"I don't want anything until it's been cooked properly. God only knows what has been done to that."

Harry held up a piece of bacon, took a whiff, and bit into it. He enjoyed the crunch as he chewed the bacon. He closed his eyes, putting on more of a show than he normally would. "Tastes fine to me. I'll go see if Severus wants some."

He grinned as he turned his back on Tobias, who was giving a desperate look at the plate of bacon as Harry walked away.

"Good morning."

Eileen was finally awake. Her voice was even weaker, as though it was muffled through a pillow. She was very pale, and her eyes had sunken in even more. Severus was sitting up on the bed, a book on his lap.

"Severus was just reading to me."

"What was he reading?" Harry tried to examine the title, but Snape set it down and rolled his eyes.

" _Sweet Savage Love_. I'm a fan of lusty romance novels."

"It's garbage."

"It's perfect for someone to enjoy on an early morning. Harry, would you like to sit down and eat while Severus reads? I'm afraid I don't have much of an appetite myself."

"I understand." Harry sat down next to Severus. "I would love to listen to Severus read, though."

Severus took a piece of bacon from Harry's plate, ate it in two bites, picked up the novel in his hands, and began reading.

" _Without knowing why or what she was doing, her arms lifted, went around his neck and clung. She felt his hand move slowly and caressingly up her back, then tug impatiently at her hair, loosening it from its tidy, coiled braids._ "

Severus’s voice was smooth and gentle. It was evident this was not the first time he had read to someone. Eileen closed her eyes as Severus read, her fingers lacing themselves in her lap.

"Mother, I cannot read this to you."

"Nonsense." Eileen smiled and looked at Harry. "He can read this, don't you agree?"

Harry thought back to the unbuttoning of Ginny's skirt. "Erm, it would be a bit awkward for a man to read this particular scene to his mother."

"Would you read it then, Harry dear?"

Harry took the book from a beet red Severus and winked. He found the spot where they were and continued reading.

**

About an hour later, Eileen stopped Harry. "I'm getting a bit sleepy. Would you and Severus give me a chance to nap? I wouldn't want to miss the end of my book."

Harry glanced at the worn cover and bent pages. Something told him Eileen already knew the ending. "That's fine. I was going to suggest to Severus that we take a walk, anyway."

Eileen nodded. "Would you put a Warming Charm in my blankets? It's a bit chilly."

Harry looked at Severus, surprised. If anything, it was hot and muggy in the room. Severus waved his wand and Eileen squeezed the now heated blanket. "Wake me in a few hours, will you?"

Severus kissed the top of her forehead and stood up to leave.

"Harry, could I speak with you alone?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I suppose. Severus, I'll be out in a minute."

The door clicked shut behind him.

Harry felt quite uncomfortable. He was in a room alone with Severus's dying mother. She somehow looked even paler, her breaths coming at an uneven pace.

Eileen drew a rattling breath. "You are together, aren't you?"

"What?"

"You and my Severus. I see the way you look at each other. You'd have to be blind not to see the love in your eyes." Eileen reached for Harry but missed his hand.

Harry covered her hand with his. He nodded mutely.

She let out a relieved sigh. "I hoped that were true. He's such a good boy. He just needs someone patient."

"We didn't know when we first met. We didn't get on that well."

She nodded. "Severus is not very kind to those he doesn't know. It's from his past. It's why he became a Death Eater in the first place. If only they understood." She took in another slow breath. "He just needs someone to love him. Deep down, he's just a boy wanting to be loved."

Harry stared at her. "Severus and I have a complicated past, but I do love him."

"Don't let him be too difficult on you."

He nodded. "I won't."

"Don't worry if he ignores you now and then."

Harry looked at the frail woman in front of him. "I know."

"Let him love you."

His eyes watered. "I will."

"Don't you dare break his heart."

Harry spoke through a quivering voice. "I promise, I won't."

Eileen closed her eyes. "I'm so happy Severus has found someone. I can pass knowing that his heart is safe."

"Thank you for being so understanding. I know your husband doesn't feel the same way."

She breathed in, shifting on the bed so she was on her side. "It can be our little secret."

The only sound that remained was the hissing of air and the beeping of the machines. Harry placed the book next to Eileen, stood up, and left the room.

Severus was leaning against the wall in the main room, glaring at his father as he chugged a beer. "He's what's killing her."

Harry motioned for Severus to follow him. He wasn't too keen on another fight at the moment.

Once they got outside, Severus turned to Harry. "What did she want?"

Harry shrugged, trying to decide if he should tell Severus the truth. "She asked me about—er—us."

Severus blinked. "What did you say?"

"I said that we were romantically involved. She had it figured out last night, anyway."

Severus pursed his lips, then sighed. "She wasn't disappointed?"

Harry laughed. "No, she threatened me not to hurt you."

"That sounds like her. Always thinking of others besides herself."

"She isn't going to wake up from this nap, will she?" Harry spoke in a hollow voice.

Severus gripped Harry's hand and didn't respond.

"You should be with her now."

"I can't have you there with me."

Harry sighed. "I know. Is there anything I can do?"

Severus shook his head. "Just go into the town. I imagine you have enough common sense to get by as a Muggle for a few hours."

Harry nodded, then leaned in for a soft kiss. "I'll come by in a few hours to check on you and your dad."

Severus tensed at the mention of his father, but did not answer.

Harry turned and began walking down Spinner's End. The town was just a short walk from the neighborhood.

He hated that Severus was alone. He had to watch his mother die with a bloody drunk in the house. It was what Severus wanted, and Harry knew he needed to respect that.

Spinner's End seemed unchanged from Harry's future visits. It was a small, crumbling neighborhood next to a rather muddy lake. An ancient mill sat perched on a hillside nearby. Muggles did their laundry outside, scrubbing their shirts.

Harry thought back to the words Dumbledore had spoken just days ago. _He's not ready_. Was he right?

Snape was about to lose his mother. He had left his past at Hogwarts—though Harry was sure Dumbledore would take him back. Harry decided it wasn't that Severus wasn't ready for a relationship. In fact, Harry figured he'd need a friend more than ever during this time.

But a boyfriend? Harry was unsure. Friends and boyfriends were two very different things. For the first time, Harry felt a wave of panic over the stability of their relationship.

He stepped into the town and immediately spotted a pub. He would enjoy a pint and return to see where the day took him. For now, Severus deserved not to have those private moments interrupted.

He did his best not to disturb anyone or catch their attention while he was in the Muggle pub. It was midafternoon and Harry was surprised to find the bar filled with people, mostly adults skiving off work. He placed a Notice Me Not charm on himself and watched as the patrons came and went.

Harry drank his ale as slowly as he possibly could. The longer he nursed his drink, the longer it would be until he saw Severus. This, of course, made him want to drink faster.

When he was just about finished, he noticed a pale light flashing in the side window of the pub. He turned around and realized it was a doe. No one else seemed to notice, and Harry stood up and headed outside to investigate.

Just as he suspected, it was Severus's Patronus. The Patronus seemed to recognize him immediately and began speaking in Severus’s low voice.

"You need to come back. Now."

The Patronus vanished.

Without caring what the Muggles saw, Harry spun on the spot, instantly Apparating. If Severus needed to see him enough to warrant a Patronus, this was urgent.

**

Harry landed with such force, he fell over. He sprinted up the steps to the Snape house and flung the door open.

It was quite a scene in front of him. Tobias's chair looked as though it had exploded. The work Harry and Severus had done to clean the house the day before had been completely undone. Tobias was tied up against the wall with the same cords Severus had used on Sirius, his mouth gagged. Gashes and lacerations were splattered across his face and arms. Severus stood in the corner, muttering. He had a bruise forming under his right eye.

Harry had no idea what to say, but he flicked his wand at the ties binding Tobias. They disappeared, along with the gag.

"Let me at him!" Tobias rushed at Severus, who brandished his wand.

Harry flung a Shield Charm at Tobias to keep the space between them. "What's going on here?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "I'm going to kill him."

"Not if I kill you first, you piece of shit faggot!"

Harry pointed his wand at Tobias. " _Silencio_!" Harry watched as Tobias kept screaming and pounding on the shield barrier, but his words did not come out. "Severus, what happened?"

"When she—stopped—when she—died—my father—he told me to get out."

"And you didn't."

Severus sneered. "Of course not. My mother deserves to be buried with the Prince family. Then, he attacked me. You can figure out the rest on your own."

"You let your emotions get to you. That's alright. Your mum just died."

"He said he'd expose us all."

"Severus, you can't possibly imagine that would go over well. The Ministry would take care of that within a matter of seconds."

"He told me he was going to kill me."

Harry closed his eyes. "So you showed him how powerful you were."

Snape smirked at his father. It was evident that he had finally gotten what he wanted. "I'm not some pissant waiting for him to take care of me anymore. I could kill him if I wanted."

Harry kept an eye on the Shield Charm, which was still holding. He took a step closer to Severus. "I understand."

"You don't."

"I've told you how the Dursleys treated me, right? They locked me up in a broom cupboard, starved me for weeks, beat me with anything in their hands, and encouraged my cousin to do the same. I understand what it is like to wish someone dead."

"That's nothing compared to what my father did to me." Severus jerked his head irritably at Tobias, who continued to try and shout through the Silencing Charm.

"This isn't a competition. This also isn't an opportunity to play God."

Severus kept his wand trained on Tobias. "No, but I can't stand the thought of him alive any longer. Not after my mother—"

"My point is that you aren't the one who should decide that. It makes you no better than Voldemort. A killer."

The lights flickered on and off at the mention of Voldemort's name. Tobias stopped shouting and looked around the room. Harry took another step closer to Severus.

"You don't want to come any closer, Potter."

Harry froze. He knew he was playing with fire trying to call Severus's bluff, but he seemed past reasoning. "So _Snape,_ are you going to prove yourself just as much a killer as my mum believed you were when she died?"

Severus shot a hex at Harry, who dodged it. He was still shielding both himself and Tobias, and the magic was beginning to be difficult to hold.

"Don't talk about her like that."

"If you really cared about her—if you really care about me—you wouldn't be doing this."

For the first moment since Harry arrived, Severus seemed unsure of himself. Harry took it as an opportunity to speak again. "You're a better man than that. I've always known that, even when I didn't want to believe it."

Severus looked him straight in the eye. "How did I die?"

Harry was so surprised at the question that he took a step back and released the Shield Charm. Tobias shrank against the wall, suddenly less confident than he'd been moments before.

Severus ignored his father. "Tell me how I die or I'll kill him."

"Put your bloody wand down. Let's get out of here and I'll tell you then."

Severus shook his head. "You said I died a hero. I want this waste of space to know exactly what happens, that I turned out far more useful than he ever will."

Harry sighed. He really didn't want to have this conversation, especially with Severus's wand pointed at a Muggle. Especially when that Muggle was Tobias Snape. "Fine."

"What day did I die?"

"At the end of the Second War. Second May, 1998."

"You said I died saving you. Why?"

"When Voldemort returned, you resumed your role as a spy for the Order. With the exception of perhaps Bellatrix, he trusted you over everyone else."

Severus wrinkled his nose. "The Dark Lord found out?"

Harry shook his head, wishing it were that simple. "Severus, the real reason Voldemort trusted you was because—"

"What? What could possibly be that hard to spit out?"

"Dumbledore was cursed. Dying. He had you kill him before anyone else could find out."

Severus pressed his lips together and was silent.

"The whole story is far too lengthy to tell right now. What is important is that Voldemort knew you killed Dumbledore. With that wand." Harry pointed at the wand raised towards Tobias.

"He wanted the old man's wand."

"My wand and his wand were—are brothers. They wouldn't work against each other, and he wanted the most powerful wand he could think of."

"The wand of the most powerful wizard alive."

Harry nodded, deciding not to launch into an explanation of the Elder Wand. "You were the one who killed him, but he took the wand from Dumbledore's grave." His voice quivered. "He thought that if he defeated you, he'd have the wand's loyalty."

"We duelled."

Harry shook his head, shutting his eyes as he recalled Severus’s violent murder. "His snake attacked you."

Severus let out an irritated sigh. "I've got antidotes."

"The snake had powerful Dark magic placed on it. You were cursed with its first bite."

Severus lowered his wand. "Are you telling me I died from a snakebite?"

"Severus, I was there! The snake bit your throat at least a dozen times. There was _nothing_ you could do, nothing we could do."

He let out a low chuckle. "How is that a hero's death?"

Harry gulped. "You were looking for me."

"I can't imagine that you were looking for me, though. You didn't wish to be found."

"No. However, the reason you were looking for me was to tell me the key to defeating Voldemort. You tried so hard to find me in those hours during the Final Battle. Once Voldemort left, I came to try and heal you."

Severus frowned. "You thought I was a traitor."

Harry's eyes shone with tears. "I couldn't let you die."

"Did I tell you how to defeat the Dark Lord?" There was a tone of pleading in Severus’s voice, a wish for a happy ending.

He nodded. "You gave me your memories. All of the ones of my mother, the ones of you and Dumbledore plotting as the war wore on. Severus, if I hadn't had those memories, we _never_ would have defeated Voldemort. _That_ is a hero's death. _That's_ how I know we're going to leave this place without another person dying today."

The story seemed to shake Severus to the core. He dropped to his knees and clenched his hands so tight, his knuckles turned white.

Harry rushed to him, cupping Severus's cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

A sob escaped from his throat, yet he managed to speak through his tears. "She's dead. I'm going to die. I no longer have a home. Anywhere."

Severus fell into Harry's lap, releasing his hands and sobbing. Harry felt his own eyes welling up with tears as he held the other man, squeezing his shoulders. He ran his fingers through Severus's hair, trying to come up with something he could say to make everything better.

They stayed like that for several minutes, until the guilt completely consumed Harry. "I'm so sorry. I've completely fucked up everything."

Severus sat up and stared at Harry, his cheeks tear-stained. "Why would you think that? You only did as I asked."

Harry cast his eyes down. "I should have said no."

"How did you fuck things up?"

"I've completely screwed up the timeline. Now all you will be doing is waiting for the night you die."

Severus took Harry's hand. "Harry, you've fucked the entire timeline just by being here. There's a saying that a butterfly's wings can cause a typhoon. Surely, all of this," he motioned between the two of them, "has affected far more."

Harry felt better, but then had another wave of guilt crash into him. "You shouldn't be comforting me."

Severus stood up. "I need to keep myself pulled together." He glanced around the room. "My father seems to have run off. Coward."

Harry shook his head and smiled. "It's probably for the best."

He pulled Harry to his feet. "I need to make arrangements at the cemetery."

"Let me help. Even if you won't let me pay for it, I want to be there for you."

Severus pulled Harry into a kiss. Harry relaxed into his arms, missing the warm comfort in Severus’s embrace. He knew right then and there that he would never return to his own time, his own universe. It didn't matter if the scientist could send him back. He belonged here with Severus.

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

Harry pressed his forehead against Severus’s. "Don't worry about it. Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"You never return here."

Severus ran his fingers up and down Harry's arms. "I suppose I could manage that."

**

Harry and Severus stayed in a Muggle inn while they made arrangements for Eileen.

The wizard undertakers collected her body that evening. Harry helped Severus in selecting a stone for her memorial. He was surprised to see how well Severus kept himself together throughout the process.

Eileen's gravestone was simple. It was flat, with her name and birth and death years.

Considering Eileen had long since stopped writing to her magical friends and kept to herself, Severus and Harry did not hold a funeral. They simply watched her coffin be lowered into the grave.

Neither of them spoke. Severus gripped Harry's hand with unbelievable force, but he did not cry. Together, they created a wreath of white lilies that wound around the gravestone.

They stayed in the graveyard long after the undertakers left. Severus pointed out some of his ancestors—a Healer, a diplomat, even a Quidditch star who had died after getting hit by a helicopter. They looked around at the ancient site and saw familiar names—Black, Parkinson, even a Longbottom.

Standing in the graveyard reminded Harry of the many funerals he attended after the war. Yet, for the first time ever, he no longer felt it a burden. Better yet, all of his friends were still alive—even Mad Eye. 

Harry remembered when part of him wanted to join the number of the dead. The reason he had initially gone to see a Mind Healer was because he was feeling suicidal. The guilt of not being able to save everyone in the war had nearly consumed him with grief. He felt it was better to be dead than to go on living.

Harry took Severus’s hand. "How are you feeling?"

Severus gave a noncommittal shrug. "My mother is dead."

"I have a question for you."

Severus turned to look at Harry. They were standing near the edge of the gravesite next to fields of grass. It was a chilly day for April, and the gusts of wind nearly blew them over.

"After all of this with your mum and dad, are you still okay to be together?"

"What do you mean?"

Harry let go of Severus’s hand and kicked the ground, looking down. "I can understand if you wanted to take a break. You know—to take care of yourself before worrying about a relationship."

Severus stared at Harry. "I don't associate myself with imbeciles. At the moment, Potter, you are being an imbecile."

He snorted. "I'm being serious."

"So am I. If I ever find that I am no longer capable of being in a relationship, I will let you know. Until then—if that were to ever happen—I would be amenable to be with you as long as you will have me."

"We can work something out, I'm sure." Harry grinned.

Severus held up his hand. "There's one condition I have."

Harry frowned. "What?"

"Remove that awful glamour."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I don't know if I can. It was put on by Dumbledore and it's lasted all of these months. Plus, do you really want to look at my dad's face every time we kiss?"

Severus shook his head. "I don't." Harry let out a disappointed sigh. "However, I'd like to see _your_ face, which is not your father's."

Harry felt himself blush. "That still leaves the problem with a powerful glamour."

Severus took Harry's hand and pointed his wand at Harry's face. He chuckled, remembering how, just six months ago, they were in a similar position. Except, of course, the fact that then Severus was threatening to kill him.

"Lend me your magic."

Harry closed his eyes, feeling his magic blend with Severus’s.

Severus waved his wand in front of Harry's face. He felt his nose going back to its normal size, his jawline lengthening, his hair shortening.

"There."

Harry watched as Severus drank in his appearance. "Do you regret it?"

Severus shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "We should go back to the inn."

Harry gave Severus his arm and they spun in place straight to the inn. They definitely didn't need any hotel keys.

Severus barely gave Harry time to recover from the Apparation. He pressed a fierce kiss to Harry's lips, shoving him straight into the wall next to the bed.

Harry kissed back, wrapping his arms around Severus and gripping the back of his robes. Their tongues tangled and their bodies rutted against each other in perfect harmony. It was pure ecstasy. Everything felt even better with his own face, his own lips, his own shorter hair.

Severus pulled back and peppered kisses all along the side of Harry's face, as though he were becoming accustomed to Harry's new facial features. As he did this, Severus’s hands roamed Harry's body, swiftly unbuttoning Harry's robes and sliding them off his body with ease.

Harry pressed himself against the wall, focusing his attention on his legs not giving out. Severus seemed to feel differently, for his lips traveled down to Harry's neck, his tongue following the trail of kisses.

Harry took in a sharp breath. "We always had you pegged for a vampire."

At that, Severus bit down on the tender skin at the base of Harry's neck. Arousal pooled in Harry’s groin. Harry let himself fall back onto the bed and allowed himself to succumb to the oral assault that was Severus Snape.

Harry could barely watch as Severus teased his nipples with his lips, and then with his teeth. His cock was painfully hard, the tip already weeping with want.

Between breaths, Harry managed to speak. "You're going to be the death of me."

Severus didn't respond. Instead, he laid a series of wet kisses back up to Harry's lips. Harry wrapped his legs around Severus, never wanting to let go. They rocked their hips with perfect synchronization, relishing the pleasure gained from the simple motion.

Severus dipped his lips to Harry's ear. "You may want to let go so our clothing can come off."

Harry whipped out his wand, waved it, and their clothes instantly disappeared. He smiled up at Severus. "You were saying?"

He snorted, but let his hand travel down past Harry's cock, tracing his perineum down to his entrance. Harry let out a moan as Severus slowly prepared him, Severus’s mouth staying on Harry's neck.

Once Harry was prepared—as well as reduced to a babbling mess—Severus pinned down his hands and eased himself inside Harry. He attempted to buck his hips, but Severus held him in place.

"Slower."

It was agonizingly slow. Severus moved as though he was transfixed in the moment, as though he was trying to savor every millisecond. Despite the lack of pace, Harry saw fireworks. He could feel every bit of his muscles pushing against the strength of Severus’s prick, his nerve endings catching fire.

Severus pulled Harry into a deep kiss, and Harry had never felt such pleasure. His senses were overwhelmed, and in the best way possible. Severus’s thrusts grew deeper, pushing hard against Harry's prostate. His moans were swallowed into Severus's throat and everything was perfect.

Without knowing how much time had even passed, Harry came. His climax had never felt so sensual. His eyes went blind as he and Severus continued kissing, continuing their slow dance of fucking as Harry spilled every last drop out of his cock.

Soon, Severus joined him in orgasm. He attempted to drop his head down, but Harry recaptured his lips, desperate to give Severus the same experience, longing to stare into those black eyes as he came.

Finally, Severus rolled over, taking in gasping breaths.

“Wow.”

Severus kept his arms around Harry and smoothed down his hair.

“I hope we didn't wake our neighbors.”

“It's a dingy motel. I doubt it would be the first time.”

They lay in bed for several minutes in silence.

“How did—” Severus paused.

Harry sat up and looked at Severus. “What?”

“How did you defeat him?”

“Who?”

Severus swatted Harry on the nose impatiently. “You told me that I knew the key to defeating You Know Who. How did you do it?”

Harry sighed. “I really hate talking about this.”

“I don't care. How did you do it?”

It took well over an hour of explanation, but Harry finally told Severus all about the Horcruxes, how Voldemort had five hidden in Hogwarts artifacts, how the sixth was in his snake, and how Harry was the accidental seventh Horcrux.

At this, Severus stopped him. “How did you get rid of it?”

“I died.”

“You died. You weren't lying when you were talking to my mother about that?”

Harry chuckled. “I died.”

Severus still stared at Harry in surprise. “You're not a ghost, because I can't do wicked things like that to something incorporeal.”

Harry grinned and ran his fingers down Severus’s arms. “I chose to come back. The Killing Curse got rid of the Horcrux inside of me.”

“Of course you bloody did. You're the exception to every rule.”

“That's me.”

“I was aware of Horcruxes, but I hadn't realized that was how the Dark Lord managed to return.”

Harry nodded.

“The conspiracy theorists are right, then? He's simply biding his time.”

“Yes.”

Severus sat up with a jolt and stared at Harry as though he had just realized they were in bed together. “We could kill him.”

Harry scoffed. “No. We'd be disrupting the timeline.”

“Don't be daft. We'd be disrupting the timeline for the greater good.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Wasn't that Grindelwald's favorite phrase?”

“Shut it, you. You know where all of the Horcruxes are, right?”

He nodded. “You're serious about this, aren't you? Severus, I nearly died trying to get some of them, though.”

“You don't need to sneak into the Ministry to do all of this.”

Harry chuckled. “No, but we would need to break into Lucius Malfoy's manor, buy the necklace from Borgin and Burke's, and go out to a cave in the middle of a lake. Oh, and obtain a goblin-made weapon or a basilisk fang. Or set Fiendfyre on it. Right, Severus, that sounds simple.”

“I can't just sit here and wait to die for the next fifteen years.”

Harry looked at Severus. He had a stern look on his face, but his eyes held fear. “I'm sorry. But Severus, what about your pledge to Dumbledore? You promised him you'd be loyal to him.”

“He spared my life when I had no one else to turn to.”

“Do you think running off to rid the world of Horcruxes will please him? He wants you at Hogwarts. You're safer there, anyway.”

Severus took in a breath. “I don't need the old man's permission to do anything. I'm not a child, Harry. As you know, I'm no safer at Hogwarts than anywhere else. Dumbledore will understand. Does he know about the Second War, as you call it?”

Harry shook his head. “You're the only person I've talked to about the future.”

“Are there any other problems that need to be resolved before you agree that this is the best path?”

“What about Harry? This world's Harry. I couldn't kill a child.”

Severus leaned back against the wall, deep in thought. After a moment, he spoke. “We need to do some research on that, then. That can't stop us from removing every other failsafe of the Dark Lord's.”

Harry still felt unsure. “What about our jobs? We can't just live off of what's left of our salaries. We don't even get paid as professors. And if we leave, we won't have any source of income.”

“Let's speak with Dumbledore, then. Surely, he can afford to pay two wizards trying to prevent a war.”

“You are so unlike the Snape I knew at school.”

Severus leaned in and kissed Harry. “That Snape never had a warm Potter tucked into his bed.”

Harry was content to agree with that.

**

After a quick shower, Harry and Severus returned to the Hogwarts gates.

"What about my glamor? Won't students recognize me?"

Severus tapped him twice with his wand, and the feeling of a rather strong Disillusionment Charm washed over him.

“I still don't think Dumbledore will be happy with us.”

Severus shushed him and they stepped through the gates. Once they got closer to the castle, students stared at Severus as they walked up the grounds. Severus older students cheered at Severus, saying something about “fighting the power.” He ignored them. Harry was extremely anxious about meeting with Dumbledore and couldn't take the time to be amused.

“Severus?”

Harry turned and saw Minerva. She rushed to him, wrapped Severus in a hug, and then promptly let go, turning red at her outburst. “I take it Harry found you?”

Harry tapped Minerva on the shoulder. She jumped, but quickly pieced together what was happening. 

“We need to speak with Dumbledore.” Severus spoke impatiently.

As they began to walk again, Minerva fell into step with them. “I hope it's about you coming back to work here. Horace is ready to give his resignation.”

Harry shook his head. “There's something more important that needs to happen first.”

“I'm glad both of you made it back safely.” She hugged them again, this time with more confidence, and turned to leave.

Harry removed the charm, and he and Severus continued up the stairs to the headmaster's office. They spoke the password and then ascended the spiral staircase.

“Good afternoon Harry, Severus.”

Dumbledore's smile made it feel as if neither of them had been gone for several days.

"You look a bit different from when you left."

Harry nodded. "We removed my glamor. I needed to be myself."

They took a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. Severus finally spoke up. “Headmaster, we have a proposal for you.”

Dumbledore clasped his hands together. “That sounds fascinating. I take it you both took care of Eileen Prince?”

They nodded. Dumbledore sighed. “I was her Charms instructor. I'm very sorry to see that she passed.”

“I owe you an apology, Headmaster.”

“Nonsense, Severus. I have more trinkets in this office than I know what to do with. Breaking them simply leaves room for more of my items in storage.” Dumbledore pointed to a whirly gadget with marbles rolling down the sides, which appeared new.

“It was out of line.”

Harry stared in astonishment as Severus apologized. He had never heard an apology come out of his mouth.

“I accept your apology.” Dumbledore clasped his hands together. “The two of you look like you have something to share with me.”

Harry nodded and began to explain to Dumbledore all about the Horcruxes, and Severus’s idea.

“We think that if we can destroy all of the Horcruxes and figure out how to get rid of the one inside Harry, the Dark Lord will not return.”

Dumbledore's eyes shone. “I always suspected that Tom had a Horcrux, but never seven.”

“Potter knows where they are, and—”

Harry placed his hand on Severus’s arm. “I think I know where all of them are. It's a difference of twenty years, and things could be different here.”

"Potter and I would like to take a leave of absence to accomplish this task."

"Severus, surely you understand how this would affect the timeline."

Severus snorted. "Potter simply _being here_ changes everything, never mind the fact that he and I are—involved."

Harry smiled warmly at Severus, then turned back to Dumbledore, his expression more somber. "Plus, we could avoid hundreds of unnecessary deaths. Whatever we do now will no doubt help ensure the future is better than the one I came from."

Dumbledore was silent, clearly deep in thought. Harry and Severus stared at him, both of them holding their breaths. Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "The two of you will need to go deep undercover. You'll need to utilize Polyjuice and use every ounce of training you had. Furthermore, you'll need the means to destroy the Horcruxes."

"We need a goblin-forged weapon."

"That can be arranged."

Severus nodded in satisfaction. "Does this mean we have your blessing?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "There's one last concern. Think of it more as a condition." He looked at both Harry and Severus. "After you're done with this task, you will return to teach at Hogwarts."

"Excuse me?" Severus stared at Dumbledore.

"You've both proven to be phenomenal instructors when you put your mind to it. I would hate to lose you to another job."

"What about—me?" Harry motioned to himself. "The other me. Won't he wonder why I look so much like him?"

"Why don't we worry about that when the time comes? You'd be surprised at how little attention others pay to details that don't concern them."

Severus nodded. "I would be willing to return to Hogwarts."

Harry numbly agreed. He was terrified to upset the timeline, but then again, this wasn't the same timeline at all.

"I assume I should tell Doctor Premji that you will not be accepting his offer to send you back to your timeline."

He nodded. He missed his friends, but they seemed like a distant memory, as though they were a part of a rather long dream. Plus, it was a longshot that Doctor Premji would actually send him to his own timeline. He could end up in a world made entirely of shrimp.

Severus turned to Harry, frowning. "You have a way to get back?"

Harry shook his head. "A slim possibility opened up."

"You didn't look into it?"

Dumbledore held up his hand. "I looked into it. Harry decided it wasn't worth the risk. I support his choice, as he could end up a thousand years in the future in a completely different dimension. Time travel is a sketchy part of magic."

Severus continued eyeing Harry with an almost guilty face. "When you first arrived, all you wanted to do was get back to your time."

Harry nodded. "I'd rather be here with you than somewhere without you, even if I did somehow make it back. Plus, you need my help destroying the Horcruxes."

He took Severus's hand and squeezed it. He turned to Dumbledore, who was smiling, and let out a breath.

"The two of you should leave as soon as possible. Harry, tell me everything you know about the Horcruxes and we can form a plan."

Harry sighed. It was going to be a very long morning.

**

"Must you pack like a Muggle on vacation? Don't forget, we need to travel light."

"There are charms to fix that problem." Just for good measure, Harry added another set of robes to his bag.

"The students know there is something happening." Severus sat on Harry's bed, setting his rather small suitcase next to him.

Harry looked up from his packing. "Of course they do. I've stayed out of sight all week, and your valiant march to Dumbledore's got everyone talking."

"Including the staff. Trelawney came down from her bat cave to offer my fortune. Bloody bint."

Harry picked up his hairbrush from the countertop and placed it in his bag. "You would be curious if you, too, were out of the loop."

"I have little time to care about idle gossip."

Harry zipped up his bag and sat down next to Severus with a sigh. "What if nothing changes? What if Voldemort is destined to return?"

Severus twitched, but then laced his fingers with Harry's. "It will work itself out."

He smiled at Severus. "I never would have imagined you'd say something like that. Severus Snape, Optimist of the Year."

"Shut it."

"That sounds more like the man I know." Harry leaned forward and gave his lover a kiss. "Honestly, though, I can't help but feel as though we're leaving all of these pieces completely open-ended. What if this doesn't work?"

"Isn't it worth trying? To ensure he won't come back? You were the one who actually lived through the Second War. Is that what you want?"

Harry shook his head. "You're right. It's better to do whatever we can. In that case, I have a rat to kill and a godfather to rescue while we're at it."

Severus crinkled his nose. "Black? You can't let him rot in there?"

Harry elbowed Severus in the side. "You've managed to let go a lot of hatred. Surely, some of it has let up in him as well."

"Let's not talk about that bloody arsehole now."

"Right." They stood, gathered their things, and made their way out of Harry's quarters. 

They walked through the castle using low traffic areas. Once they stepped outside, Harry turned around, facing Hogwarts castle.

"I missed this. Hogwarts was the only place I ever called home. Now I have to say goodbye again"

Severus glanced back at the castle looming in front of them, shaking his head. "It's goodbye for now. We'll be back."

"Dumbledore will see to it."

Harry smiled at Severus. That man would never stop surprising him.

Despite the fact that Harry had yet to find a job he could settle down in, he’d found a man he loved. They turned back to the path in front of them. Harry had no clue where it would lead them, but he knew that he would always have a place to fit in with Severus Snape at his side.

**Author's Note:**

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